


The Misadventures of Charlie Weasley

by The_subtle_briar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Charlie Weasley, BAMF Charlie Weasley, BAMF Fleur Delacour, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Charlie Weasely is a proud mother, Deaf Character, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Lesbian Character, Light Angst, Not Beta Read, Protective Charlie Weasley, tiny dragons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25447528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_subtle_briar/pseuds/The_subtle_briar
Summary: It was four in the morning when the owl crashed through his window with a loud squawk and landed unceremoniously on the floor. Charlie didn't know how he kept getting himself into these situations. He really didn't. It's probably Ron's fault though. it usually is.Also known as Charlie's side of the story featuring baby dragons, mother hens, and everyone's favorite hero. Poor Charlie just can't catch a break, he keeps getting dragged into the golden trios messes. From illegal dragons to secret chambers to war, charlie Weasley braves them all while managing his adorable children. By this, he means his dragons.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	1. Charlie Weasley and the Kindapp- liberation of Norberta

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! This is my first fanfic ever and I'm really excited! Because I'm quite new I've not fully got to grips with everything so please bear with me. If you have any tips on either using Ao3 or just on my writing I am always open to constructive criticism. Please feel free to give me suggestions ask any questions that you have questions in a comment or on my Tumblr: the-subtle-briar
> 
> Thanks!

**Year 1**

  
It was four in the morning when the owl crashed through his window with a loud squawk and landed unceremoniously on the floor.

Charlie Weasley stared for a long moment, then looked down at the notes he was busy revising. Why did exciting things always happen at the worst moments? Really though, he had been studying all night and was just about to go to bed and now he had to deal with whatever this was as if Haru's mother Henning him about his sleep schedule wasn’t enough to give even him nightmares. In all fairness, Haru was a great roommate (not that Charlie would ever tell him that) but his motherly instincts were always a bit overwhelming. It had taken two weeks to get Gabrielle to stop clucking every time he told Charlie to eat more or go to bed earlier.

Charlie sighed and got to his feet. The owl was probably important and if he left it until tomorrow, he would probably forget about its existence and cause some world-threatening chaos. Knowing his luck, that is exactly what would happen. He most certainly did not want a repeat of the last time he ignored an owl, it ended with a very confused but very lovely old woman on his porch and a furious granddaughter who accused him of kidnapping her Nana. It was an interesting experience, to say the least.

After cooing over the owl for a moment and making sure it was unhurt, he finally reached for the letter. His name was scribbled on the back in handwriting that was almost completely illegible and most definitely Ron’s. The letter itself looked a little worse for wear but he supposed that was to be expected considering the distance from Hogwarts to Romania. Oh well, what can you do?

He flopped back into his seat and attempted to open the letter. After ripping a considerable amount of the envelope off, it finally fell from the shredded remains and onto the desk. It had been a while since he had spoken to Ron, though Molly and Ginny had visited for Christmas. He had introduced them to his friends and spent the week hoping that his mum wouldn’t notice the charm he had cast on his hair to make it look shorter. Every time he tried to grow it long, she would cut it and he was not about to let that happen again. The rest of the time had been spent in a dizzying blur of laughter and good-humored arguments. He had really missed them.  
Unfurling the letter, he began to read.

* * *

  
_Dear Charlie,_

_I know that you’re super busy in Romania, but I really need your help. Hagrid has a dragon at the school, not just any dragon though, it’s a Norwegian Ridgeback! He’s raising it like a baby and calling it Norbert. Do you think you’d be able to take it to_ _Romania? Hagrid keeps fretting over it but I’m sure that you will keep it safe and this way Hagrid won’t go to Azkaban._

_I really, really want to help Hagrid but we’re not sure what to do._

_Please write back quickly._

_Love, Ron (you’re favorite brother)_

* * *

  
Charlie banged his head on the table.

Great. Fantastic.

Hagrid has a dragon at the school and somehow Ron is involved, which means that Charlie’s involved which means he has to figure out how to smuggle a baby dragon over no less than five borders as soon as possible. And of course, he can’t say no because Ron is his brother and Hagrid is one of his best friends and the poor little dragon is all the way across the ocean and is probably terrified and even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s been bored these last few days. Gabrielle and Haru were off with Sylvia and Zel god knows where and Varen was always busy with one thing or another. So really, Charlie didn’t have much of a choice.

He reached for his quill and a spare sheet of parchment making a mental note to clean his desk (really, it was a wonder he could even find those two things) he needed a plan, a good one to get the dragon out of Hogwarts. Time to think.

The first problem was who would pick the dragon up. Easily solved, Gabby, Haru, Sylvia, and Zel would be passing the UK on their way back to Romania in a few days. He could write to them easily enough and get them to go collect it.

The second problem was the wards around Hogwarts. Charlie thought for a good hour on how to get around those before he realized, they wouldn’t be a problem. There was no way in hell that Professor Dumbledore didn’t already know about the Dragon. Chances were, he already knew Charlie would be the one to organize the Kidnap– liberation of the little guy. The wards wouldn’t be a problem, he was sure of it. And thank god too because he would have never been able to work his way around them, and neither would any of his friends

The third problem wasn’t so much of a problem. It was more of a pothole. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain an extra dragon randomly appearing in the sanctuary. He could always lie, but he was a terrible liar. When Gabrielle and Haru asked him to cover for them while they went on a romantic walk to suck each other’s faces, the only thing he was able to come up with was “Haru broke Gabby’s leg accidentally and they’re at the hospital.” which had caused a lot of trouble when they came back with no injuries and the flowers sent to the hospital were met with confused stares. That was a problem for later though, he would come up with something. Probably.

He decided to write Ron back first and then send letters to his friends. That way they wouldn’t be able to refuse. Not that they would, but any edge was a good one.

* * *

  
_Dear Ron,_

_How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming over to visit me next week. The trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

_Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark._

_Send me an answer as soon as possible._

_Love, Charlie_

* * *

Now that that was sorted, he could move onto writing to his friends. Zel was currently working on her dragonology thesis, Sylvia was working full time on her study of the Catalonian Fireball and Haru and Gabby were working together on a study of Dragon breeding patterns while occasionally sneaking off on dates. The four of them would love a bit of excitement.

Of course, when they got back, they would nag and whine at him for sending them off on a dangerous quest. But he knew they wouldn’t be able to resist.  
Honestly, it was a miracle any of them were still alive. They work around some of the most dangerous creatures in the world and get into all sorts of trouble and yet somehow always manage to wiggle out of whatever mess they caused. They certainly brightened up his days though, he supposes he can give them that.

* * *

  
_To my bestest friends in the world (except Haru, he didn’t wash the dishes last week),_

_My dear friend Hagrid is currently housing a Norwegian Ridgeback at Hogwarts, which as you know, is incredibly illegal. I have already told my brother that you would be more than happy to retrieve the dragon on Saturday night from the tallest tower, so I’ll see you back here with the dragon in a week._

_Thank you so much for doing this for me, try not to get caught (looking at you Gabby) and be careful. Haru will make sure you are but still._

_Thanks for your help,_

_Charlie_

* * *

The week was the slowest week that Charlie could ever remember living through. He tried to pass the time by throwing himself headfirst into his studies and badgering Varen whenever he was around. But that still didn’t stop him from worrying. He counted down the days to Saturday, hoping everything had gone smoothly. He pictured every different situation and tried to reassure himself that nothing bad would happen. He paced in his office until Varen told him to go home and sleep.

When he woke up, it was to the sound of laughter in his kitchen and a champagne bottle being opened. Wiping his eyes groggily, he pulled himself off of the couch where he had been sleeping. He figured that he must have accidentally fallen asleep at some point or another.

He padded through to the kitchen, still wiping the sleep from his eyes when something leaped in front of him and he jumped with an undignified squawk as fell backward onto the floor. Laughter erupted from the room.

“damn sorry about that sleeping beauty, didn’t see you there,” Haru said, grinning down at him. His blood-red hair was windswept and his clothes rumpled. Charlie couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. Haru offered his arm out, which Charlie gladly took, and hoisted him back to his feet. He clapped Charlie on the shoulder then made his way back to the kitchen.

Zel was sitting on one of the bunkers, legs swinging beneath her and a glass of wine next to her hand. Her inky black hair was frizzier than usual, and her face flushed. He assumed it was from flying, they must have just arrived. Sylvia was sitting on the floor beneath her, legs crossed and laughing. Her bone-white hair was pulled into a bun that was falling apart and her usual red lipstick was smudged. Gabrielle was leaning against the fridge, her warm honey skin glowing and her curls bobbing around her chin, her smile was small but unbelievably warm. The three of them looked up as he and Haru entered through the archway.

“well look what the cat dragged in” Zel signed, fingers sharp with sarcasm and eyes set in an unimpressed stare. Sylvia bashed her leg playfully “Don’t be mean Zel, he’s probably been up all night worrying about us, you know how he gets!” She scolded, signing along as she spoke. Zel could lip-read but it was a difficult thing to do and it was easier if they just signed as they spoke to help her follow the conversation. He sighed, rubbing the back of his head “I was up quite late,” Haru frowned and Charlie knew he was about to say something about his sleep schedule, so he spoke up quickly “I’m fine though! Just a little tired.” Haru opened his mouth but snapped it shut when Gabby started clucking like a chicken. he couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling put of him. He had missed them.

After they had gotten caught up and he had been assured that everything had gone smoothly, they decided to head down to the sanctuary. Norbert, or Norberta as she had been renamed, (at that he had lifted an eyebrow but the others just shrugged) was lounging in the shade tree.

“she’s gorgeous,” He commented, noting her lovely coloring.

“Alright don’t go tearing up Charles, she’s a dragon, not a child.”

“How dare you insult my daughter!” he huffed indignantly and Haru chuckled, raising his hands in a show of mock surrender. Charlie smiled at him and turned back to Norberta.

“I know you’re a long way from home,” he murmured “but you’re going to be happy here, I promise.” Norberta sneezed and sparks shot out her nose. Charlie cooed at her and Haru huffed another laugh, lifting an amused brow. Everything was good.

“Charlie!!!” a voice shrieked “Where on earth did that dragon come from!!!!!!”

Well. Shit.

He didn’t know how he kept getting into these situations. he really didn't. He blamed Ron. Damn siblings.

Charlie stood up, turned away from Norberta, and ran. Behind him, Haru as laughing.

Everything was good.


	2. Charlie Weasley and the mental breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter comes late that night, carried by a black owl, and Charlies' heart sinks lower than he’d ever thought possible.  
> Black wings black words. This letter was about something very grave. He sits down to read it. Just in case.  
> He’s glad that he did. If he hadn’t, he may have collapsed. Because Ginny had been taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo, second chapter. This got a little angsty so sorry about that but I promise I'll make up for it in the next chapter. there will be plenty of cute dragons and family bonding. Anyway, I really love Charlie as a character and am finding him so fun to write, if anyone has any requests or suggestions I am always open to them.

** Year 2 **

Charlie's apartment feels empty. It’s strange really, there is usually always someone there with him.

Sometimes it’s Zel with a murderous expression and soaking wet clothes. The muggle complex that she insists on staying in floods every other week, so she comes to his more often than not. They eat together and talk about random bizarre things like whether or not drunken quidditch would be hilarious or inhumane and then she falls asleep on his couch.

Sometimes it’s Sylvia with her arms full of books and papers stacked, precariously, and held under her chin. She always comes to him for help on projects that she isn’t sure she can handle alone. She can never handle them alone. Her ambition would make any Slytherin jealous.

Sometimes it’s Gabby and Haru who come round with a bottle of firewhisky and a deck of cards and although they flirt with each other, they make sure he never feels awkward or like he’s intruding.

So, it’s strange that his apartment is so quiet.

He sits down at his desk and pulls some papers out of his bag. It has only been a few months since Norberta arrived in his care and already she is stirring up trouble. He chuckles as he sorts through various reports of her setting equipment on fire and accidentally trampling others in excitement. She has taken quite a shine to one of their Ukrainian Ironbellys that they named Brambles (his scales are the exact colour and shape of them). It was actually adorable, she followed him around like a lost puppy, bounding happily after him until he finally acknowledged her presence. Hagrid would be delighted.

Charlie drops the reports and decides to get something to eat. Unsurprisingly, his cupboards are offensively empty. He’ll have to get on that he thinks absently. He can’t have cereal for dinner every night, no matter how much he may want to. That can wait for another day though, it’s far too late already and he wants to sleep. He very desperately wants to sleep.

It doesn’t take long for him to pass out on his bed with his shoes still on.

* * *

He wakes up to a screech and a hex being fired.

He grabs for his wand on the bedside table and rushes to the kitchen, scenarios rapidly firing through his brain. He flings the door open and sees-

Zel and Sylvia ducked behind one of the kitchen counters and using it to block the spells that Gabby and Haru are firing at them. They’re giggling wildly, firing their own harmless hexes, and turning his kitchen into a dueling ground. There’s no trace of the heavy silence that had filled his house the night before.

He clears his throat and all eyes snap to him. At least they have the decency to look guilty about the mess they’ve made and for waking him up.

“Busted” Zel signs, smirking slightly despite her clear guilt. But Charlie only smiles, whips out his wand quick as a flash, and fires a stickfast hex at her.

The war is on and there’s no turning back. Haru and Gabby team up against them and situate themselves at the top of the stairs, firing hexes at whoever gets close. Him Sylvia and Zel hatch a diabolical plan to bring their reign of terror to an end.

“okay first we need codenames,” Sylvia reasons “we can’t let them know who’s doing what. Charlie, you are Mama bird- “

“I resent that!”

“Zel, you’re Horntail,” Zel smirks triumphantly “and I’m Fireball.” She finishes. Honestly, trust Sylvia to call him out on being a mother hen when everyone knows Haru is a bigger one than he is. He has to admit though, the proposed plan is sound. If they pull this off, they might just win the great hex war. With a bit of luck, they might just pull this off.

* * *

They do not win the hex war.

Gabby and Haru operate like a well-oiled machine (minus one argument about what and is and what is not strategically sound) and utterly thrash them. By the time they finish, all of them have taken at least six spells to the face and his apartment is in ruins. His cupboards are torn open and all of his plates smashed on the floor. Some of his walls are caving in and there are suspicious gaps in his carpet.

He doesn’t care though; they’re all grinning like fools.

It doesn’t matter anyway; the apartment is back to normal with a few waves of a wand and a simple charm.

“Who’s staying for lunch?” he asks, knowing for a fact that they will all be staying. Just as he predicted, every hand in the room goes up. But he’s glad for the company. He may not be interested at all in a romantic relationship, but he would be lost without his friends.

And isn’t that strange? When he had been in Hogwarts, everyone had asked him about who he had fancied or if he had his eye on anyone. It was one of the many things that he had never understood. He could see when someone was pretty or handsome, but he had never felt any attraction towards them.

All of the adults had told him that he’d understand when he was older. They said he would ‘grow into it’ but he never did. The only things he’d ever been interested in were his friends and magical creatures. It had taken him some time to realize, but he understood it now.

He hasn’t told his family yet though. Not because he’s afraid of what they’ll say, but because he hadn’t known there was a word for it until recently. He had been looking through some muggle documents, exploring the idea of some male dragons being attracted to other males (it was rare, but it happened) when he came across an unfamiliar word. Asexual.

For the first time in his life, he felt valid. There wasn’t anything wrong with him, he wasn’t defective. He was asexual.

He had told his friends about it and they had only smiled encouragingly and patted his back. Because it was okay for him to only like people in a friendly way, it was okay to not get married or not have kids. He was okay with that, and so were they.

Looking back on it now, he realizes it had been silly of him to worry. There were loads of people who weren’t married, people who weren’t necessarily asexual, they just weren’t interested. But when he was young it all felt so enormous and scary. He was lucky to have such amazing and understanding friends.

He really doesn’t know where he would be without them.

* * *

The letter comes late that night, carried by a black owl, and Charlies' heart sinks lower than he’d ever thought possible.

Black wings black words. This letter was about something very grave. He sits down to read it. Just in case.

He’s glad that he did. If he hadn’t, he may have collapsed. Because Ginny had been taken.

The letter gets worse as he continues to read. It describes students being petrified and messages written in blood. It talks about secret chambers and basilisks and magic diaries. But worst of all, it talks about his little sister. It talks about little Ginny, his youngest sibling who is so kind and yet full of fire, being taken down to the chamber. It talks of how she nearly died and describes the boy who saved her life. It talks about how Ron almost losing his memory and of how he risked his life to save hers. And the Only thing Charlie can do is cry.

Because he wasn’t there. He couldn’t protect her. He is her brother and he hadn’t even _known_ until after it had happened. He cries tears of anger and shame and he cries tears of gratitude. Because that boy, that Harry Potter, had saved his little sisters life. He had done it so recklessly and so selflessly that Charlie knows immediately that he is a Gryffindor.

A laugh bubbles in his throat. A horrid strangled sound that mixes with his tears because she isn’t dead. She is very much _alive_. He can make up for his mistakes. He can protect her.

Zel finds him like this a few hours later, crying and laughing at his desk. Her clothes are soaked and it’s obvious that her complex has flooded again.

She doesn’t say anything.

She sits beside him and rubs circles on his back until he stops laughing. She hugs him tight until he stops crying.

She leaves only once and for a short moment to make him hot chocolate and then they sit together on the floor of his room and he tells her about the letter. He lets her read it first, then explains to her how he couldn’t protect his own damn family.

She listens to him talk and when he is finished, she only asks one question.

“will you tell me about them? your family? I met Ginny and Molly when they came over for Christmas, but I don’t know much.”

And so, Charlie tells her about his dad working for the ministry and his fascination with muggles. He tells her about Bill being head boy and his job at the bank. He talks about playing quidditch in the garden and a house that is too small for seven children. He tells her about identical twins who like to play pranks and a snotty younger brother who thinks he’s above them. He describes a younger brother who they forced to play keeper and his years playing for the Gryffindor team. And finally, he talks about how he would do anything to protect them, anything at all.

When he finishes, Zel is asleep on his arm, head lolling on his shoulder. He doesn’t have the heart to move her and soon he is asleep too, dreaming of quidditch pitches and knitted jumpers.

* * *

Norberta is wrapped around his neck like a scarf and he can’t move for fear of disturbing her.

After he had woken up, he had worried about what Zel was going to say, but she had just given him breakfast and waved him off to the sanctuary to spend time with his kids. He really needs to stop calling them that, it makes it so easy for his friends to make fun of him but he’s not sure if he cares. They are his kids after all.

When he arrived at the sanctuary, the little dragon had immediately landed on his arm and wrapped her way around his neck. His fingers have a few more burns on them but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when his little baby is asleep on his back. He’s so proud of her.

The downside is that he is stuck. If he moves, he will ignite the wrath of a very tiny, ridiculously cute, and utterly terrifying baby Norwegian Ridgeback. He really doesn’t want to die today. Or any day for that matter. He is quite attached to his life thank you very much and is not about to be careless. So, he continues to sit.

At some point or another Gabby walks past him. She laughs for a moment but then sits down beside him. Norberta sets her dress on fire. Serves her right for laughing at him. Gabby isn’t as smug as the dragon though. In fact, she looks extremely disappointed in him. And in Norberta.

“Charlie get your kid under control.” She says, patting out the flames on her dress and leaving scorch marks in their wake. He looks back down to Norberta. It isn’t her fault that Gabby decided to laugh at him, clearly, Norberta was just looking out for him. He looks Gabby in the eye and says “Good girl Norberta.” To which Gabby responds with an affronted gasp.

“you have insulted me for the last time fiend!” she exclaims dramatically “you shall have to be vanquished!” and then she is bouldering into him and they are tumbling through the grass in tears of laughter.

He must have done something damn good in his last life to deserve this he thinks.

“Charlie stop assaulting my girlfriend!” he hears Haru yell.

Maybe not then. Life does have a way of placing him in rather unfortunate situations. He’s better for it though he thinks. And that is that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! what did you guys think? let me know in a comment so I know what to write more of. Again, this is so much fun to write and I cant wait to get started writing the next few chapters. I'm planning on this fic having nine or eight chapters with one for each year (I'm thinking of splitting the fourth year into two chapters as a lot happens that involves charlie) and an epilogue. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, stay safe!


	3. Charlie Weasley and the trip to Egypt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to Egypt is chaotic, disastrous, and exactly what Charlie needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took.... longer than expected. To say the least.
> 
> because there wasn't much detail about what charlie gets up to in the third book, I had to improvise al little, hope it turned out okay :)

** Year 3 **

The trip to Egypt is chaotic, disastrous, and exactly what Charlie needs.

He hasn’t seen all of his family together like this in years. Writing letters is good and all, but it's not the same as being face to face. Fred and George don’t joke as much in letters, Ginny always seems to write formally, and Ron’s are so hard to read that they may as well be scribbles. He’s glad that they’re all together.

Then again, he should have foreseen the um- _problematic_ consequences of their reunion. Fred and George had tried to lock Percy in one of the pyramids. They had almost gotten away with it too, but Molly has a sixth sense for mischief. In the twin’s defense, Percy kind of deserved it and if Charlie quietly patted the two on the back for their efforts, no one had to know.

Percy had been getting on his nerves recently and not in the way that was typical of brothers. His talk of superiority and constant complaints about statis had been rubbing him the wrong way. He had made mum upset with his talk of finance. She hadn’t said anything of course but Charlie could see the way that the shame twisted down the corners of her mouth and pinched her eyebrows together ever so slightly. Percy had made her feel like she wasn’t doing enough for the family. Charlie had had a little _talk_ with Percy about that.

The next day he had introduced Molly to her grandchildren. She had not been happy because _apparently_ ‘those aren’t children those are _baby dragons in onesies_ ’ and ‘they aren’t even legal how the hell- ‘. Charlie didn’t feel the least bit guilty when Bubbles accidentally set fire to one of her wooden spoons. She couldn’t even recognize her own grandchildren, shameful.

Catching up with Bill again had been amazing. As a child, Charlie had envied his effortless grades and easy charisma, but he had learned to just accept it. Bill was the only one he could talk to about wanting to grow his hair longer and the only one who really understood his passion for dragons. When they were in school together, they would wave wildly at each other from across hallways and send each other messages in a secret language that only they knew (the language mainly consisted of random squiggles that would rearrange into words if you pointed your wand at them and said ‘knitted jumpers’) he had missed their easy banter and inside jokes.

As Bill took them on a tour of the pyramids, they chatted in between artifacts about people they used to know and what their favorite dragons were. Of course, the correct answer is all of them although Bill didn’t seem to think so. He had an eye for antipodean opaleye’s. Charlie couldn’t blame him as their unique white scales are really quite stunning.

Leaving Egypt was the hardest thing Charlie had done in a while. There were many things that he was good at, but saying goodbye wasn’t one of them. As he left, he did promise to come over for the quidditch world cup so at least he had that to look forward to. But that was a year away, and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to wait. He supposed going back to Romania wouldn’t be all bad though, he would see his dragons again, Brambles and Norberta. He would go back to Haru’s bright laugh, back to Zel’s dry humor and Sylvia's mischievous smile, back to Gabrielle’s kind words (and constant flirting with Haru) Charlie realized that he missed them too. Maybe a year wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

Gabrielle finds him sitting at his desk and repeatedly banging his head on the desk. She immediately backtracks out of the room and doesn’t ask. Wise choice. If she had asked, she would have regretted it. Charlie regrets even opening the damn thing. There’s nothing for it now though.

In front of him is the letter. The goddamn letter that he has half a mind to cast an incendio on.

He asks himself how this keeps happening. How every year he ends up with a letter that makes him want to tear out his own hair. It has to be Ron’s fault because for some unknown reason he is always involved. Every single time.

This time, little Ron’s gotten into some trouble. Again.

Because apparently illegal dragons and giant snakes aren’t bad enough, no sir! How about Percy’s ugly old rat turning out to be Peter Pettigrew back from the dead? Or accidently running into the Azkaban escapee Sirius black who isn’t actually a criminal and was just framed? Or perhaps a helping of a dada teacher going werewolf and attacking students? No? still not enough? Fine let’s add a dash of dementors into the mix, that should just about do it.

Seriously Ron, what the hell.

Does he just stumble upon conspiracies or does he go looking for them? And how had no one noticed that Percy’s scabby old rat wasn’t actually a rat but instead was an Animagus and a murderer?

Charlie is absolutely certain that _he_ had never gotten into this much trouble as a student. Actually, that may not be _entirely_ true. there was that one time in first year where he angrily stomped into Dumbledore’s office and verbally attacked him about the procedures used to secure the ingredients of a potion they were supposed to be brewing. And the time where he accidentally knocked over someone’s cauldron (it’s not his fault he’s clumsy!) and the time where he started a campaign to free the dragon beneath Gringotts, and the time-

Okay, maybe Ron isn’t as incident prone as he first thought. Maybe it’s a Weasley thing? Fred and George certainly get into their fair share of trouble and Ginny is sure to follow if her idolizing them is anything to go by. Percy never gets into trouble, but then again, Percy is an anomaly in the family. Molly’s got ‘prison’ as an option on her spoon clock for goodness sake.

It’s definitely a Weasley thing. He’ll have to get used to it then because he is absolutely certain that this isn’t the end of his troubles. There is no way that Ron will manage to stay out of trouble for long.

Oh well, what can he do? Sometimes trouble finds you first.

* * *

The sanctuary is quiet in the mornings. Most of the dragonoligists are still asleep, recovering from the hours spent taming and studying. It can be quite strenuous work; Charlie has enough burns that say as much. Despite this, he always ends up being the first to arrive.

Norberta has grown a lot in the past two years, she is the size of him know and that’s when she is on all fours. She titters happily when he arrives and bounds over to him, nudging him with her head in search of cuddles. He happily obliges and plonks himself down on the floor, letting her curl around him.

Brambles is quick to follow her lead and the air leaves his lungs in a big whoosh when he settles himself on Charlie’s chest. He laughs a little, rubbing the dragons head.

“Alright, alright, you big softie I’m right here,” he murmurs quietly. If Gabby catches him sweet-talking the dragons again, he’ll never hear the end of it. He is already fending off her attempts to change the name on his badge from ‘Charlie Weasley’ to ‘momma dragon’. He has made it his mission to make sure she never finds out that he kind of likes that idea. Kind of.

He closes his eyes for a moment, basking in the company of his kids- em dragons. They’re totally not his kids. At all.

There’s a flash and a strange noise and when he opens his eyes, Sylvia is in front of him with a camera in hand and smirking like a Cheshire cat. She waves the camera around a bit.

“blackmail material,”

“ugh, Gabby will never let me live this one down!”

“aww come on I think its cute,” she says and turns the camera around to show him.

The picture is a tangle of various limbs, human and dragon, with him lying eyes closed in the middle of the puppy pile. He groans and runs a hand down his face. He is never going to hear the end of this. Maybe he can grab the camera, delete the picture. Its within reach, so maybe-

He lunges for it, trips on the dragon curled around his feet, then falls flat on his face. Sylvia turns and runs waving the camera and laughing openly at his misfortune. Struggling to his feet, he bolts after her. and despite his earlier embarrassment, he can’t keep from grinning too.

“I’ll get you back for that!” he yells, and she turns around, grin wild and eyes full of mirth.

“we’ll see about that.”

And then they are running through the sanctuary. Through the trees and the bushes, bounding over the benches and skittering on the stone paths. He lets out a whoop as they fly over the grass.

He can hear his feet pounding on the ground and the sound of his thundering heart. He runs faster, skidding around a corner and nearly knocking over an unsuspecting wizard. He calls a hasty apology behind him but keeps going. The wind is cool on his face, alleviating the strain of the hot sun.

She leads him through buildings and around lakes and right to his front door. They tumble right through it together, laughing breathlessly and scrambling for the camera. He comes face to face with a pair of laced-up boots and a hand that snatches the camera away from him.

He looks up at Gabby as she turns the camera over in her hands and Sylvia starts laughing again. He has been defeated; it is only a matter of time until she finds the picture of him. He groans and sinks down to the floor. His friends' exchange amused glances at this but say nothing. They’re used to his dramatics by now.

Once again Charlie wonders how he gets himself into these situations. He’s not sure if it’s the Weasley genes or if he himself is just particularly unlucky. He suspects the former but certainly does not doubt the latter. He seems to have a knack for finding trouble in the unlikeliest of places.

He picks himself up from the floor and settles on the couch, preparing himself for Gabby’s inevitable Hen noises. (she thinks she’s hilarious) but all she does is smile down at the photo and hand the camera to him.

“You should send that to your mum,” she says, raising an eyebrow “I’m certain the howler that she would send you if you did would be quite entertaining to hear.”

Charlie does not doubt that for a second. Molly has a very scary, very strong protective streak. He has heard stories of the Howler she sent Ron when he stole the car. He most certainly does not want one of those.

“I think I’ll just keep it to myself,” he says wryly and Gabby laughs quietly. Having met Molly on various occasions, Gabby is well acquainted with her temperament.

“I think that may be for the best,” she says and Sylvia groans in disappointment.

Maybe he’ll frame the photo, he thinks. He could put it on his desk beside the one of his family.

Yes, he decides, he likes that idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning that the next chapter may take a little longer to come out. I plan on either splitting it into two or just taking some extra time to finish it. 
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. Charlie Weasley and the boy who lived - pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wakes to the sound of screams and the smell of burning and rolls out of bed, wand in hand. His dad is pulling everyone up, shouting that they need to leave. For a moment, the only thing he can do is stare, before his brain finally catches up and he scrambles to his feet, pulling Ginny out of the tent with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! I finished it! it's only the first part of year four though because a lot happens and I wanted to separate the. Anyway I should be able to get the second part up sometime next week but my schedules been derailed by the schools starting up, I promise I'll get it out as soon as I can though.

** Year 4 **

The letter arrives unexpectedly and with the ministry seal stamped on it.

At first, he doesn’t want to open it, not with his history of bad letters. But he isn’t the only one who receives one. There are hundreds of letters, one for each of his friends and him and every wizard in the sanctuary. He invites his friends over to open them together.

When they do, Charlie is struck dumb by the bizarre request. The ministry wants three nesting mother dragons to use in the Triwizard tournament that is being held in Hogwarts this year. He shares an incredulous glance with his friends before Sylvia speaks up.

“I guess we better get to work.” She says, and she is right. It isn’t long until Charlie is due to go home for the quidditch cup, and there is lots to be done before them.

“let’s go then,” he says, and they all follow him out of the room.

There is lots to be done

* * *

When Charlie looks up from his book, he comes face to face with a mop of unruly dark hair and green eyes. Which, at first doesn’t make much sense. He’s back in the burrow and he is certain that none of his siblings look like that. That is until something clicks in his brain and a name is on the tip of his tongue. Harry Potter, the boy who lived.

And then it does make sense. Because this is Ron’s best friend, the one he’s heard so much about in letters and wild tangents about how cool he is. The one who had saved his little sisters life.

Charlie grins widely and leans forward to shake the boy’s hand, and for a moment he is all too aware of how he looks. Hair longer than it really should be, cracked skin and burns all the way up his arms, the beginnings of a scruffy beard, and clothes that look like they have seen better days. He feels incredibly inadequate next to someone who has fame and fortune to spare. But all of that melts away when the kid just smiles and returns the handshake. For a moment he just sits and thanks merlin for finding Ron a friend who won’t judge them for their financial situation.

The twins come running in behind Harry and Ron, and immediately launch into a retelling of the prank they had pulled on Harry’s cousin Dudley. He can’t help but laugh as they describe how their very own Ton-Tongue Toffee had caused his tongue to grow too big for his mouth, all purple and slimy.

Under different circumstances, Charlie may have berated them for this. He knows that Ton-Tongue Toffee can be very frightening for those who haven’t seen it before, but he also knows how the Dursleys had treated the kid in front of him. No one will say it outright, but Charlie knows how to read between the lines, and he recognizes the signs of an abused kid. So just this once he allows himself to laugh and to be quietly proud of his brothers for defending Harry. Maybe the kid won’t just be good for Ron, maybe he can find the family he never had in the Weasley’s.

Arthur comes in from behind the boys and immediately begins to tell them off. Charlie offers him a smile. It’s nice to spend time with them in the burrow again, even if it is kind of cramped. Himself and Bill are sharing Fred and George's room whilst they stay in Ron’s with Harry and Hermione.

To the annoyance of everyone, Percy gets his own room.

_Apparently,_ he needs the quiet to work.

Charlie is not the only one to be unhappy with the arrangement, but there isn’t anything he can do but suck it up. Because he is a mature adult, he very pointedly does _not_ stick his tongue out at Percy whenever he sees him. Mum would be proud of his restraint, he thinks. He certainly is.

* * *

They are forced to eat dinner outside due to spacing issues. Eleven people at their dinner table just isn’t going to work. But Charlie doesn’t mind, he’s always been an outdoor person anyway. Although, it does mean that they’re going to have to move all the tables outside. He and Bill get to it immediately and as they are levitating them over, Bill looks at him and smirks. Charlie knows what he’s thinking immediately. They have always been close in that respect. He grins back.

At that moment Bill flicks his wand and the table is firing forwards. Charlie sends his one up to meet it. Bill’s, one reverses a bit to build up momentum and speed, then charges. Charlie swerves his out of the way and the other table goes flying past it. He takes this moment to ram into the back of it and as he does so one of the legs goes flying off. The sound of the contact is mixed with the laughs and shouts coming from his siblings. He grins and pulls his table back, ready to end it when a voice interrupts them.

“Keep it down, I’m working!” Percy screeches out of the second-floor window.

Charlie grumbles a bit but lowers his table to the ground. It’s probably time to eat anyway.

After they set the tables down, all of them help to set them. Soon they are covered with mashed potatoes, chicken, peas, and gravy. It’s enough to make Charlie's stomach growl. He doesn’t waste any time in collapsing into a chair and filling his plate. His mums cooking really is the best and no matter how many restaurants he goes to, he can never find anything better than a home-cooked meal.

As they eat, they talk excitedly about the world cup tomorrow and who they think will win.

“It’s got to be Ireland. They flattened Peru in the semi-finals.” Charlie says through a mouthful of potatoes. He can see Ron’s obvious dislike of this and almost laughs when he laments how Victor Krum is the greatest seeker ever and how Bulgaria is definitely going to win. Fred nods.

“victor Krum is a phenomenal player.”

“Krum’s one decent player, Ireland has got seven.” He points out “I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was.” Charlie had received multiple howlers from Oliver Wood, saying that if Charlie had accepted the invite to the English team, they could have gotten through this year. Oliver had never understood why Charlie had chosen dragons over quidditch and did his best to convince Charlie to play for the English.

Charlie declined every offer. He prefers dragons anyway.

“Why?” Harry asked and it took Charlie a moment to realize he was asking why it was embarrassing and not why he preferred dragons.

“Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten. Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg.” He finishes, remembering the truly shocking defeat and the seventeen howlers that had shown up at work. Explaining to his friends exactly why the howlers kept screaming about missed opportunities and begging for him to come back and play again was an interesting experience that he’d rather not repeat any time soon. Or ever for that matter.

Ron sulked a little at the thought of Bulgaria losing but brightened when Harry and Hermione went off, blabbering about nonsense that Charlie couldn’t make sense of. It did make him smile though. He used to do that when he was younger too. Talking quickly and wildly, with animated hand gestures about anything and everything. He learned to tone it down though after he accidentally knocked a vase off of the mantlepiece. Molly had not been very happy about that. She had not been happy at all.

* * *

Charlie can feel the buzz of the stadium from his seat next to his family. The air is thick with excitement and his ears are ringing with the enthusiastic shouts of fans. He can feel his own excitement and energy, buzzing around, making him dizzy. He knows that Ron feels the same if the way he’s clinging to the sides of his seat is anything to go by.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards take their places in the seats, which rise in levels around the long oval field. Everything is suffused with a gold light which seems to come from the stadium itself. The field looks smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the stadium are three goal hoops, fifty feet high.

right opposite them, almost at Charlie’s eye level, is a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing keeps dashing across it as though an invisible giants’ hand is scrawling upon the blackboard, then wiping it off again. Watching it, Charlie sees that it is flashing advertisements across the field.

It is then that the players come out, Ireland first in a burst of green smoke the color of the jumper that Charlie is wearing. Around them, fireworks go off in bursts of green and white and arrange themselves into the shape of a leprechaun that begins to Riverdance.

Charlie woops loudly, joining in with the twins and Ginny’s yells and shouts. The players fly around the stadium in formation and the twins point out players as they fly.

“Here comes the Bulgarians!” Fred yells right before the dancing leprechaun explodes in a burst of red and the Bulgarian players come firing through.

Leading them is victor Krum who does an elaborate trick on his broom whilst circling the stadium.

“who’s that?!” he hears Hermione yell over the noise.

“That’s Victor Krum, he’s the greatest seeker in the world!” Cries George.

An image of Krum appears on the Bulgarian side of the stadium, it travels through the crowd until it settles right behind the Bulgarian seeker, matching the fist that he shakes at the crowd.

“Good evening!” a voice cuts through the noise and Charlie’s attention is drawn to Cornelius Fudge, standing on one of the balconies “As minister of magic it gives me great pleasure, to welcome each and every one of you, to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second British world cup, let the match,” he flicks his wand then and a small ball of white light flies from it “Begin!”

And then the Quaffel goes up and the players are moving. The game is on.

* * *

To Charlie’s joy and Ron’s disbelief, the Irish win.

The tent feels warm and alive with all of them talking excitedly about the match. The fireplace is lit and casts a warm glow over the area. Charlie can smell the tang of burning wood that fills the tent and can’t help but feel content.

Ron is standing on the table in the tent, lamenting about Krum as Fred and George tease him. Charlie has to be fair though, his catch at the end had been truly phenomenal. It was so fast that Charlie hadn’t even seen it, and he was considered a brilliant player!

Ron seems to agree and argues good-naturedly with his siblings (plus Harry and Hermione) about how ‘ _no he isn’t in love with him_ ’ and ‘ _did you see the way he flew?’._ Charlie just laughs and walks past them to talk to his dad.

“Ireland shouldn’t have gotten that penalty,” his dad says to him.

“I disagree, cobbing is a quidditch foul and should be treated as one.”

And soon the two of them were arguing enjoyably and animatedly about quidditch fouls and what counts and what doesn’t. He can hear the others laughing as well as the two of them talk and before he knows it his dad is ushering them all to bed.

Needless to say, this is met with a good many groans and complaints and questions of ‘five more minutes?’ and ‘we’re old enough to go to bed when we want now!’ but dad wouldn’t hear of it. soon they were all marching off to their beds, spirits high from the exhilarating day and minds buzzing with the remains of laughter and the beginnings of fatigue.

Charlie is glad that he got to sleep in this morning, he can’t imagine how tired the younger ones must be. They woke at the crack of dawn to get the portkey because they were underage and couldn’t apparate. Himself, Bill, and Percy hadn’t left until mid-day, and even he felt exhausted.

The moment he lies down, and the fire is put out, he is fast asleep. And so is everyone else.

* * *

He wakes to the sound of screams and the smell of burning and rolls out of bed, wand in hand. His dad is pulling everyone up, shouting that they need to leave. For a moment, the only thing he can do is stare, before his brain finally catches up and he scrambles to his feet, pulling Ginny out of the tent with him.

The air is thick with smoke that threatens to choke him, and he can smell burning. He can feel the fear in the tightening of his throat and the sinking pit in his stomach. In front of him, are people clad in black cloaks and masks, holding torches and burning as they go. _Death eaters_. The thought sticks in his brain and he frantically pushes Ginny into Fred’s arms as he grasps his wand and rushes forward.

The smoke clouds his gaze and makes him feel dizzy, but he’s certain that Bill and Percy are somewhere on his left. He fires a stupefy and watches in sick satisfaction as one of the cloaks falls. The smell of burning flesh fills his nose and he casts an aguamenti at a burning tent, hoping there isn’t anyone inside.

He turns back to the death eaters and fires another round of spells, some hit, and some are deflected but he keeps firing. He turns and sees Bill, haggard-looking with blood running from his nose, and at that moment a spell rushes past and tears a hole in his t-shirt.

It takes a whole second for him to realize this, think about how goddamn lucky that was, and then leap back into the fray.

He doesn’t know how long he fights for, but it feels like an eternity. The seconds pass in a smoky haze of fire and blood and flashes of red and green that streak past him. Another spell clips his ear and he can feel the warm blood trickle down it. at another point, he sees Percy fighting with a wand in hand and has to clamp down on his instinct to get his brother out of here. He reminds himself that Percy is an adult know, but the blood on his face makes that hard and he has to tear his gaze away before he does something stupid.

It takes him a while to notice that the screaming has died down, but when he does, he realizes why. The death eaters have left, but they left behind a token of fear.

In the sky above him, is the dark mark. The skull with a snake slithering from its mouth, horrid and _wrong_. Its mouth opens and a tongue slides out in a hiss that makes Charlie stumble back.

He needs to find his family. He needs to find them _now._

As he runs back through the burned campsite, he catalogs the damages. You-know-who is dead, and yet his followers still poke at the scars he left on the world. Charlie wants to cry. Or maybe throw up. Or both.

This feeling leaves him when he runs headfirst into Bill. He wraps his arms around him and lets the relief flood through him. He goes to Percy next, clasping his shoulder and smiling tiredly at him. He hugs his dad and thoroughly checks the twins, Ron, and Ginny for any injuries. He’s not sure who is more relieved that they have none; him, or them.

His heart is still beating faster than ever, but he can feel the thrum of exhilaration leaving his body. The chaos is over. They’re all safe.

* * *

When they arrive back at the burrow, early the next morning Molly pulls them all into a tight hug. Charlie is hardly surprised; she has always been a worrier and she hadn’t known until this moment if they were all okay. She had heard what had happened but hadn’t known if her children or husband were safe.

He doesn’t resist when she pulls him close and doesn’t mention the glint of tears in her eye, nor the slight wetness on his jumper. He hugs her back as hard as he can.

He doesn’t know how it happens, but he gets roped into playing three on three quidditch in the garden. Him, Bill, and Fred against Harry, Ron, and George. He isn’t complaining though, harry is going to let him try his firebolt, the fastest broom in the _world_. Charlie is hardly going to pass up that opportunity. Plus, playing like this reminds him of when how they used to play when they were young. They would always force Ron to be keeper.

His team won the game (of course, they were all older) but Charlie had to commend harry, he really was a good seeker. They sat in the garden for a while, chatting idly about nothing until Ron mentioned that their next DADA teacher was supposed to be mad eye moody.

“who’s he?” Harry asked

"He’s an old friend of Dumbledore’s, isn’t he?" Charlie asked and Ron nodded “He’s retired, used to work at the Ministry. I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror — one of the best … a Dark wizard catcher,” he added, seeing Harry’s blank look. “Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though … the families of people he caught, mainly … and I heard he’s been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn’t trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere.” He finished.

When he had first met Allister Moody, he had been overly impressed with him. Now he just hoped that Ron would finally have a long-term competent Défense teacher. Even more so with the recent attack. He would feel a lot better if Ron knew how to defend himself.

* * *

He accompanies them to platform nine and three quarters with Bill. The two of them had talked a lot last night about the death eaters and the dark mark in the sky. Charlie had a bad feeling about it that Bill shared. Neither could place it or say what it meant, but it was there.

Charlie smiles as Molly fusses over the others, making sure that they haven’t forgotten anything. When she is sure that they haven’t, she sends them on their way. Waving a goodbye at them which they return.

Ron turns to Charlie, saying goodbye.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," Charlie says and he smirks a little at the confused face that Ron pulls.

“why?” Fred asks.

“You’ll see. Just don’t tell Percy I mentioned it … it’s ‘classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,’ after all.” They all laugh at his impression of Percy and he grins back at them.

He isn’t too upset hen they board the train, waving their last goodbyes, he’ll see them all soon.

He waves as the train leaves, trying to crush the twinge of sorrow he feels.

He’ll see them all soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I know it was a little longer than the other chapters but there was a lot to write about! let me know what you think in a comment or on my Tumblr :)


	5. Charlie Weasley and the boy who lived Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The horntail crouched low over her clutch of eggs, wings half furled, yellow eyes pinning harry down and tail writhing wildly, leaving yard-long gouges in the hard stone. The crowd was making a great deal of noise but whether it was friendly or not, Charlie couldn’t tell. The Only thing he could think about was how horridly vulnerable Harry looked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two!!!!! Okay, this was way more angsty than I had intended but oh well hope you enjoy!

** Year 4 pt. 2 **

It isn’t often that Charlie is angry. This is a one-off.

He can feel it boiling beneath his skin, itching unpleasantly, waiting to be tipped over the edge. But someone once told him that anger is a secondary emotion, and he finds himself agreeing now more than ever. Because he isn’t angry, not really.

He’s scared.

He’s angry as well of course, angry that the ministry has let this happen, angry that they haven’t stepped in, angry that he can’t _do anything_. But much more than this, he feels the horrid swirl of fear in his gut.

The letter lies in shreds on his desk and he glares at it. and he knows, _he knows_ that he can’t do anything about its contents, but that doesn’t stop his throat from closing up or his hands from shaking.

They’ve been asked to bring a fourth dragon.

A fourth dragon that a fourth champion must face. A fourth dragon that Harry must face, the quiet abused kid who his brother latched onto like a limpet. The kid who chattered excitedly about quidditch and smiled while shaking his hands. And god does Charlie want to scream. Because it’s not _fair_. It’s not fair that this keeps happening, that he keeps getting put in positions where he is utterly _helpless_.

He stands up. Sitting and moping isn’t going to solve anything. He will do what he always does, work through whatever this is, step by step. And the first step is having a glass of firewhiskey.

* * *

Charlie imagines the forbidden forest as it was when he was in Hogwarts, dark and quiet and calm. Eery in a way that wasn’t quite scary but wasn’t quite peaceful either.

He looks around at the chaos it’s in now and thinks that maybe this isn’t such a great idea and maybe, they are just a little in over their heads. The four dragons are proving harder to control than they had expected, not that Charlie is surprised. He’s sure he would be prickly too if he woke up in an unfamiliar place in chains.

He pulls at the rope in his hands as the dragon lurches, digging his feet into the ground. Another jet of fire escapes from the horntails mouth and Charlie shouts a warning. This isn’t working. There are at least eight wizards to a dragon and they’re still not having any luck. The short snout keeps snapping at the trainers and Charlie can hear the shouts as the Chinese fireball shoots another mushroom shaped cloud of fire. The rope lurches again and he throws his weight backward against it.

And then he spots a familiar figure behind a clump of trees at the edge of the clearing.

“Keep back there Hagrid!” He shouts. Hagrid has always loved dragons and will no doubt want a closer look, which is a terrible idea. “They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet you know! I’ve seen this Horntail do forty!” He warns, straining on the rope.

“It’s No good!” he hears Haru yell over the shouting rabble, and Charlie quietly agrees. “Stunning spells on the count of three!” he draws his wand and all at once the cry goes up.

“Stupefy!”

The spells shoot up into the dark sky, like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragon’s scales.

Charlie watches as the Horntail teeters dangerously on its back legs; jaw stretched wide in a suddenly silent howl, its nostrils suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking – then, very slowly, it falls – several tonnes of sinewy, scaly black hits the ground with a thud so huge that Charlie swears the trees quake.

He lowers his wand and walks towards the horntail, hurrying to secure the chains to the iron pegs which have been forced deeply into the ground with all kinds of spells. Dragon taming sure is a blast.

“all right Hagrid?” He pants, wandering over to talk.

He had been friends with Hagrid in school and had spent many nights debating magical creatures at his hut. Charlie hadn’t seen hm in ages and couldn’t help but laugh at the side of Hagrid’s combed beard and questionable fashion sense.

He follows Hagrid’s gaze to the dragons and offers what he hopes is a comforting smile “they should be ok now – we put them out with a sleeping draught on the way here, though it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet – but like you saw, they weren’t happy, not happy at all –“

“what breeds you got here Charlie?” Hagrid asks, his gaze landing on the visible strip of gleaming yellow behind the horntails lack eyelid. “This is a Hungarian horntail,” He says and turns to face the rest of the dragons, painting at them in turn “there’s a common welsh green over there, the smaller one – a Swedish short-snout, the blue grey – and a chines fireball, that’s the red.”

Charlie looks around and notices the tall women for the first time, Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons he remembers and frowns slightly. He had said Hagrid could come because he was a good friend who Charlie trusted and loved dragons almost as much as Charlie himself, he hadn’t known that she would be here.

“I didn’t know you were bringing her Hagrid; the champions aren’t supposed to know what’s coming – she bound to tell her student, isn’t she?” Hagrid looks away sheepishly before shrugging “Just thought she’d like to see them.” He says and Charlie softens slightly. Hagrid always means well, and Charlie can hardly blame him for that.

“It’s a really romantic date Hagrid.” He says, shaking his head softly in amusement.

“four…” Hagrid says, “So it’s one fer each o’ the champions, is it? what’ve they gotta do – fight em?”

“Just get past them, I think” Charlie realizes he doesn’t actually know what the champions are supposed to do and panics a little at the thought of Harry fighting a dragon. The thought of any champions fighting a dragon for that matter, but his mind snags on Harry’s name more than the others “We’ll be on hand if it gets nasty, extinguishing spells at the ready.” He says, not really sure who he’s trying to convince. “they wanted nesting mothers, I don’t know why… but I can tell you this, I don’t envy the one who gets the horntail. Vicious thing. Its back ends as dangerous as its front.”

He points to the bronze colored spikes that protrude from the dragon’s Black scales, a new one every couple of inches. And they’re not just for show, Charlie knows. They’re sharper than a blade, quicker than a flash. He really is not jealous of whoever has to face the horntail.

Hagrid’s gaze turns towards his friends, staggering up to the horntail, carrying a clutch of huge granite eggs between them in a blanket. They place them carefully at the horntails side and Hagrid lets out a moan of longing.

“I’ve got them Counted, Hagrid,” He says sternly but with a smile. It quickly vanishes when he asks his next question.

“how’s Harry?”

“fine,” Hagrid says, still staring at the dragons and Charlie feels the anger roll back to the surface of his skin at how unphased Hagrid is, how uncaring he sounds. Charlie knows that’s not true, knows he does care but can’t quiet squash the urge to call him out.

“I hope He’s still okay after he’s faced this lot,” He says grimly, looking around at the dragon enclosures and fighting to keep his temper in check. “I didn’t dare tell Mum what he’s got to do for the first task; she’s already having kittens about him… ‘How could they let him enter that tournament, he’s much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!’ She was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about him. ‘He still cries about his parents! Oh, bless him, I never knew!’” he tries to joke but can’t quite keep the concern from his voice.

He just Hopes that his fear is unfounded. Because there is nothing he can do if it’s not.

* * *

It is worse than Charlie ever could have imagined. Sitting there in the stadium helpless while the bets are placed, and the songs are sung and the crowd screams and laughs around him.

But Charlie isn’t laughing.

He can feel the thrum of excitement and apprehension in the air, the screams and shouts of the audience, and the sinking pit in his stomach. He has never felt so trapped before. So helpless, and as the crowd roars again, he wonders if Ron feels the same. It can’t be easy, sitting and waiting, about to watch as your best friend faces off a dragon. It can’t be easy at all.

A Blast sounds somewhere, the audience shriek and Charlie watches as Cedric Diggory walks stiffly forward. The Swedish short-snout rounds the corner and then everything fades into a daze of screams and cheers and Ludo bagman’s voice, booming over it all.

Charlie honestly isn’t entirely sure what happens, he thinks there was a transfigured dog at some point and a mad rush for an egg but the only thing his brain can focus on is the burn on Cedric’s face. And suddenly the face isn’t Cedric’s anymore, its Harry’s.

The medics rush toward him, wands in hand and the burn disappears like that. But the fear in Charlie’s stomach doesn’t dissipate, it only grows as Fleur Delacour steps onto the pitch.

Charlie has never met Fleur before, but my god is he impressed. He can’t stop himself from standing up and screaming encouragement because she just enchanted a dragon to sleep.

She enchanted it. To sleep. By herself.

And Charlie thinks for a moment that she has just revolutionized dragon taming. Because usually, it takes at least eight wizards to stun one to sleep. And she did it herself, no stunning spell, just an incredibly complex enchantment that Charlie can’t even begin to understand. He turns and catches Sylvia's eye. ‘She’s amazing’ she mouths to him, exaggerating the movements of her lips almost comically, but Charlie has to agree. He would be lying if he said she wasn’t awesome. And maybe, he wants her autograph. Just a little.

It wasn’t even her fault that the dragon _happened_ to snore. She lost quite a lot of points for that.

“And here comes mister Krum!” cried Ludo bagman.

And then The Bulgarian stepped out and onto the pitch. Charlie remembers watching him at the quidditch world cup and finds himself slightly disappointed when all he does is blind the dragon. Even more so when he realizes that Krum has beaten Fleur. He looks across to Sylvia again who is somewhere between frowning and glaring at the Bulgarian.

Charlie turns back to the stadium in time to hear the whistle.

Harry walks out of the tent and for a moment Charlie wonders how it must feel. Standing in the middle of the arena with a hundred faces staring down at you, some friends, some foes, and a dragon at the opposite end.

The horntail crouched low over her clutch of eggs, wings half furled, yellow eyes pinning harry down and tail writhing wildly, leaving yard long gouges in the hard stone. The crowd was making a great deal of noise but whether it was friendly or not, Charlie couldn’t tell. The Only thing he could think about was how horridly vulnerable Harry looked.

Harry stood still for a moment, then raised his wand. “Accio firebolt!” He shouted, and then he waited.

Charlie's throat tightened, what if it hadn’t worked? What if the broom wasn’t coming? What if the plan went wrong?

And then there was a whoosh of air and Harry was throwing one leg over the firebolt And Bagman was shouting something that Charlie couldn’t hear over the thundering of his heart.

Harry soared upwards until he was little more than a speck in the vast blue sky. And then he dived.

The horntails head followed him and harry pulled out of the dive just in time to avoid a jet of fire exactly where he would have been. Charlie’s breath caught in his throat and Ludo Bagman’s voice was roaring I his ears.

“Great Scott, he can fly!” the man yelled as the crow shrieked “Are you watching this mister Krum?”

Harry soared up again, then down, narrowly missing the dragons snapping jaws, but Charlie could see what else was coming and his heart sank.

“The tail Harry!” He screamed, but it wasn’t enough. The spikes slashed through Harry's shoulder and Charlie held his breath.

Harry kept flying. He was fine. He was okay.

He began to fly this way and that, not enough to make her breath fire, but enough to make him a threat. And then Charlie realized what he was doing. He realized exactly what he was doing and felt a surge of pride flow through his heart at the kid’s tactics. It was smart, but Charlie wasn’t sure if it would be enough.

Harry kept flying and Charlie found himself muttering under his breath. “come one, get up there, go and get him,”

The horntail opened her wings, and Charlie cheered because there was the opportunity. Quick as a flash, harry dived down and scooped up the egg before the dragon could even see where he went.

And then the shriek went up and Charlie sagged in relief, adding his voice the masses. Harry had done it, quite magnificently too. He was safe. He was _alive._

The dragon tamers rushed forward and harry was ushered into the tent. It was over

Charlie watched in a relieved daze as the judges put up their scores, cheered when Harry got an eight, two nines and a ten, booed when Karkaroff gave him a four. But that didn’t matter because Harry was drawing first with Krum. He was winning.

Charlie pushed through the crow towards Harry, using his elbows more often than was probably necessary but that didn’t matter.

“You’re tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!” He cried, and was well rewarded with Harry’s blinding smile “Listen, I’ve got to run, I’ve got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I’d tell her what happened — but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah — and they told me to tell you you’ve got to hang around for a few more minutes. … Bagman wants a word, back in the champions’ tent.”

And then Charlie was off to write a letter to his mum. She would be worried sick by now he was sure. He couldn’t wait to tell her.

* * *

Charlie put his head in his hands.

Yesterday, he had tried to get off of work to watch Harry’s third task.

Yesterday, he had teased Bill about marrying Fleur before someone else got there first.

Yesterday, he had smiled and laughed.

And god was that so goddamn ironic. Because these last few days had been full of fun and laughter and messing with his siblings and playing pranks and death-defying performances. He had flown back to Romania with a smile on his face and a promise to visit on his lips. He had said goodbye and joked and teased happily. But that had been yesterday.

Today, Cedric Diggory was dead.

Today, Voldemort had returned.

Today everything changed.

And it didn’t matter if he was ready for things to change. Didn’t matter that it was so unfair that they had bee laughing yesterday, didn’t matter that Cedric was still in school, that he was too young, or that he was too kind for his own good.

Charlie hadn’t been there. Hadn’t seen his body, or the way Harry had cried or heard the anguished screams of a father who no longer had a son. But Ron had been there. And Fred, and George and Percy and Bill and Harry. They had all seen.

The cup of firewhisky in his hand didn’t taste of anything when he swallowed it. it just burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's alive!!! phew, it's finally done! yay! Anyway, I'm not really sure how long it will take for the next chapter to be up, no more than a week probably but I'm not sure. The next chapter will probably be a bit shorter too because there isn't actually that much canon for what Charlie is up to in book five but I'll try my best!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :D


	6. Charlie Weasley and the backstories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvia had never had a proper family before she met her friends.   
> Coming from a pureblood family has its perks, status, wealth, respect.  
> But it has its drawbacks too.  
> A father who never talks to her, a mother who pretends she doesn’t exist and a sister who shuns her. All because she doesn’t believe in discrimination, because she refuses to believe in blood politics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that took a lot longer than expected.  
> school for me started back up a few weeks ago and so everything has been a bit crazy, getting back into routines and what not. I do have exams this year and so most of my time is being used to study, therefore I probably won't be able to upload chapters as often as I would like. I hope you can all forgive me for the wait, anyway, enjoy the chapter.

** Year 5 **

The six of them sit on the floor of Charlies bedroom, the letter in the center of their little circle.

“So,” Sylvia says “The order of the phoenix.”

It’s painfully obvious that she has been crying. Her eyeliner is streaked down her face and her usual sharp red lipstick is smudged at the corners. Charlie doesn’t blame her though; they’ve all had a rough couple of weeks.

Her head rests on Zel’s shoulder in a position that can’t be comfy, though she doesn’t seem to mind.

“You guys don’t need to join, but I don’t have any other option. It’s the right thing to do, and I can’t let my family join without me.” He says, staring at his hands.

Gabby laughs wetly at that and he flinches. She sounds awful, looks even worse. Her eyes are all red and puffy and she hasn’t let go of Haru in at least three hours.

“As if we would let you join up by yourself,” she says, “can’t let you have all the fun!” She tries to joke, smiling weakly, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and the only thing Charlie can feel is crushing guilt. He is asking them to put their lives on the line, and they are just accepting it. They’re just going to join up because he asked them to, and if they get hurt, it will be his fault.

“stop,” Zel signs and he shoots her a questioning glance. She sighs dramatically “You’re moping so loudly I can hear you, and I’m deaf!” that pulls a small smile out of him. “we are joining up because we want to, not because we think we need to. We are choosing to be apart of this.” She says and lays a hand on his arm as the others speak a chorus of agreements.

“You know it’s going to be dangerous?”

“well duh!” Haru says and Zel snorts. “you think we hadn’t realized that?” Charlie opens his mouth but Gabby beats him to it.

“We don’t care,” she says, sniffling softly. “we want to help however we can.”

Charlie looks at them all, Zel confident and stern, Sylvia quiet but determined, Haru solemn for the first time in his life, and Gabby deadly serious. He sighs.

“All right then, but once we’re in, there’s no going back.”

There’s a moment of silence and they all glance around at each other before fixing their gazes back onto Charlie. They don’t look as scared as before; they look determined, strong.

“do it,” Haru says “we’re in.”

* * *

Sylvia had never had a proper family before she met her friends.

Coming from a pureblood family has its perks, status, wealth, respect.

But it has its drawbacks too.

A father who never talks to her, a mother who pretends she doesn’t exist and a sister who shuns her. All because she doesn’t believe in discrimination, because she refuses to believe in blood politics.

Growing up, she had been oblivious to it all. The injustice, the discrimination, everything.

When her mother told her, she couldn’t be friends with the little girl who lived across the street, Sylvia had thought there was a good reason behind it and cut all ties. When she was shipped off to a private school for purebloods, she had accepted it without complaint. When her father had told her about the arranged marriage and her position as heir to the family line, she had smiled and looked pretty. The perfect, respectable daughter of a perfect respectable family.

And then She had met Zel.

A deaf half-blood who worked at a dragon sanctuary.

She had been visiting on behalf of her family, they had wanted to see if the sanctuary was worth investing in. Sylvia can safely say that it was.

She remembers the first time she ever saw it, the lush rolling green hills and the golden, burnt oranges of the sunset. The dragons that swooped and soared in lazy circles, every breed you could imagine. She remembers running headfirst into a witch with the longest hair, darkest skin she had ever seen and an effortless beauty. And she remembers thinking, just for a moment, that she wanted to spend her entire life with her.

If Sylvia was to pick a turning point in her life, that would be it.

The moment where she had realized, she didn’t want to marry, didn’t want to lead the family, didn’t want to endorse discrimination.

It was the moment where she had gone to an interview on a whim and secured a job.

It was the moment where she had, for the first time in a long time, smiled and laughed freely.

The howlers had come later. And the house elves, and eventually her father who had threatened to revoke her position as heir.

Not that she cared, Sylvia may have been groomed for the position, but she certainly wasn’t born for it. She was born to fly, and if working in the dragon sanctuary allowed her to do that, so be it.

But the thing that hurt most of all, more than any threats or howlers, was the severed connection between her and her sister Magnolia.

After she had left, her mother had ensured they would never have contact, and if they did, she would be shunned and ignored. It was the one punishment that made Sylvia reconsider, the one thing that made her think ‘was it worth it?’

But all though she didn’t have Magnolia anymore, she found a new sister in Gabrielle’s warm smiles and gentle demeaner. She found a brother in Haru’s lopsided grin and Charlies clumsy hands. She found a lover in Zel’s arms. But more than anything, she found a family that she could trust.

And looking back now, she knows that leaving was the best decision she has ever made.

Because she knows what happens to children in pureblood families when they come of age, she knows that if what they say is true, if you-know-who is back, Then the next time she sees magnolia, she will greet her on the field as an enemy. The next time she sees her sister, she will also see a death eater.

But if fighting her will save her new family, if she can protect them, then she will. She knows where her loyalties lie, knows what her choice will be if she needs to choose between her biological family and the one that she has found.

She just hopes she will be able to live with her decision when she makes it.

* * *

Gabby misses her mother.

She misses her hugs, tight and warm, a source of comfort when the world seemed against her. She misses the smell of freshly baked cookies, eaten late at night over a mug of hot chocolate. She misses the way she would run her fingers through her hair and sing lullabies until they both passed out. She misses her more than anything.

But although she misses her, she hates thinking about her. Hates remembering the last time they had talked when she was hooked up to a million cables and barely breathing. Hates remembering the burning sting in her eyes and the way her throat had tightened until she couldn’t breathe. Hates remembering the way her ashes had disappeared until they were nothing more than a memory.

She hates it all.

But remembering isn’t so bad anymore, not now that she has Haru. Wonderful, kind, handsome Haru who holds her hand and rubs circles into her back when she cries, who bakes her burnt cookies that they laugh about for hours afterwards, who holds her and cuddles her and _loves her_.

Sometimes, when its late at night, he just holds her while she cries. Sometimes she does the same for him. They never ask, they don’t have to. Sometimes the steady pressure of each other’s arms is more than enough.

The thing is, Gabby has been with guys before. She’s been with blondes and brunettes, bad boys and librarians, in all shapes and sizes. But she’s never had someone like Haru before.

He makes her laugh, more than she’d ever thought possible. After her mother had died, it had felt as though she may never laugh again. But with Haru it’s the only thing she is ever able to do. He is kind, respectful, loving, everything Gabby has ever admired. And although she was scared to say it at first, she loves him.

More than that, she wants to marry him.

And she knows, okay? She knows that they’ve been together for five years and that she should just bite the bullet and _ask him._ But she can never find the right time. Not with her idiot brother and siters, Charlie, Zel and Sylvia causing trouble left right and centre. And now?

Well, now she isn’t sure if she’ll ever have the chance to. She’s not dumb, she knows how dangerous joining the order will be. But if it protects muggles, people like her mother, she will do what it takes.

And somewhere, in the back of her mind, she thinks that her mum would be proud of her.

* * *

Zel has never been good at fitting in.

She’s a black, deaf, lesbian, muggleborn witch for goodness sake, what was she expecting?

She had been excluded and isolated in school, always alone and on the receiving end of harsh words and judgements. She had learned to tame her emotions and temper and how to show a unified front. She had mastered her unimpressed stare and got more than enough practice at using it. But despite this, she had always felt the sharp sting of mocking gazes and hateful glares. She could never quite squash that small compartment in her heart that told her she wasn’t valid, that called her ugly names and said ugly things.

Still, she has never felt out of place with her new family.

Sometimes she wonders what on earth she did in her past life to end up with friends like them, to have the siblings she’s always wanted and a beautiful girlfriend who she loves with all her heart. She supposes it doesn’t really matter what she did, only that the moments last just a little longer, only that she gets a little more time with them all. That possibility is growing ever distant.

If there was one thing Zel could always count on, it was her mind. She had been top of her class in all subjects and got O’s on all of her exams. What she had lacked in popularity, she made up for in academic ability.

The point is, Zel is smart. Smarter than most. Her mind has always been one of her best qualities. It’s how she learned to cast non-verbal spells, how she managed to do everything everyone else could do twice as well as them.

It’s also how she knows that they may not survive this. You-Know-Who still has many sympathetic followers who believe in blood politics, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was amassing an army. If they met in the field of battle, they would be severely outnumbered and in desperate need of recruits.

She doesn’t regret her decision to join though, she wouldn’t take it back for the world. When she was young, she would get into trouble for fighting with the upper years. Every single time, her father would ask her why, she would tell him that she was ‘waging war on oppressors and those who prey on the weak’ and then he would give her a lollipop.

She’s always stood up for people who can’t stand up for themselves, that’s not about to change now.

* * *

The letter arrives late at night with six signatures on it, and the order leaves with six new members.

Albus Dumbledore smiles down at the scrawled hand writing and dragon seal.

Remus Lupin buries his heads in the crook of Nymphadora’s neck.

Molly Weasley hold her Husband’s hand, and together they pray for a better tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo, that's done.  
> I hope you all like it, I know that sometimes reading about Oc's can be kinda boring so I'm sorry for those of you who don't really enjoy that. Leave a review on your way out


	7. Charlie Weasley and the angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The funeral is on Sunday morning.   
> It’s a small affair with white roses and a downpour of rain. It’s fitting weather, Charlie thinks offhandedly as they lower her flower riddled casket into the damp soil. It’s like the sky knows that someone is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO.........
> 
> its been a while. I am so so sorry for how long this took, I hated writing this and kept writing a thousand words, and then immediately deleting them. In the end, this is what I came up with, I hope you enjoy.

** Year 6 **

The stack of paper on his table is climbing higher by the second.

Recruitment folios, his research papers, issues of the quibbler that he is definitely meaning to read once he gets round to it, and the missing persons flyers.

They grow and grow each day until Charlie is scrambling madly, trying to organize and plan and sort as they gradually devolve into chaos. And every day, Charlie stares a little longer at the names, listens a little harder to the radio, just to make sure. Just to remind himself over and over that his family are safe. That it isn’t Ginny’s face on the flyer or Ron’s name on the radio. It gets a little bit harder as the days go by.

At least he has Zel.

Wonderful Zel who takes one look at the mess on his desk and orders him out of the room so that she can organize. Her mind is sharper than a knife and her ability to turn chaos into pristinely formatted notes is something that Charlie marvels at. He knows that he will never be able to keep it tidy for long, but at least for now he doesn’t have to worry about how its mounting higher and higher.

“you need to get out of this office for a while.” She signs, looking him up and down and he flushes as he realizes what he must look like. He hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in what feels like forever and he can’t remember the last time he ate something. He is certain he looks to be on the brink of collapse and is suddenly relieved that it is only Zel here and not Haru. The thought of him lecturing Charlie on his life choices is enough to give anyone nightmares.

“fine,” he concedes, glancing down at his work “But- “

“but all of this work will still be here for you when you come back, you don’t need to do it all now, it’s not going anywhere.”

After a little more convincing, he agrees, but that does not mean he will refrain from muttering about deadlines under his breath. Zel’s fond smile is well worth it.

He goes down to the small muggle café that he and his friends used to frequent. It’s a cute thing with a tiny veranda that sticks out onto the cobbled road, painted with red and white stripes. The floors are polished wood and the walls an airy cream. There is a bookshelf in the corner, brimming with dusty texts and little knickknacks including a small telescope, a tiny gear and a silver spoon.

They had found the café together back in their first year at the sanctuary. When they had first met, they had needed a place to meet up and study and chat and the area was perfect. It’s strange, Charlie thinks, how he had once been able to smile so freely. He’s not sure if he can anymore.

He sits for a while, and he thinks.

There is supposed to be a field mission in a few weeks, nothing too dangerous, just investigating another missing person’s report. It will be the fifth one he has been on, and it will be the fifth one he dreads. Its not that he dislikes field work, just that whenever he walks around in the empty house, he can’t stop thinking about how easily it could be the burrow. How easily the report could describe a kid with ginger hair and freckles.

The hot chocolate in the bottom of his cup is cold when he finally leaves.

* * *

The house is a disaster.

The door is entirely ripped off its hinges and strewn in the garden, the windows are black with smoke and soot and the walls are scattered with holes. The inside is worse.

A bookshelf lies on the floor, books spilling out onto the scratched wood. The mirrors are smashed as well as all the dishes. The kitchen table is overturned, and the chairs are missing, likely thrown in the bonfire that stands proudly in the centre of the living room.

Charlie stares.

And stares.

And stares.

This was someone’s house. Somebody lived here and now-

And now its little more than a pile of soot.

* * *

They don’t hear them coming. No one does.

One second, he is wandering around the house and then there is a flash of red bursting past his ear and he turns sharply, so sharply that he almost mistakes the hooded figure for Zel. But then his head clears, and his mind screams danger and in between his confusion and fear he manages a strangled cry of “death eaters!”

People move around him, but he doesn’t notice them, not as he fires an expelliarmus at the figure then rolls out of the way of a flash of green. He can hear the thundering of his heart and the feeling of wood on his knees as he scrabbles for purchase, flicking a wordless reducto over his shoulder aimlessly.

The resounded crack is almost satisfying.

He’s on his feet again in a moment and he whirls, coming face to face with a mask of bone white.

His hand shoots out before he can think to use his wand and he feels the sting of pain in his hand. It’s a bizarre thought that he has just punched a death eater in the face. But it doesn’t last long and suddenly he is moving again, deflecting a particularly nasty hex with a protego just in time.

People are shouting, he’s aware. Perhaps he is shouting too. The world moves in an odd blur as he pulls Zel towards the door, partially dragging her. He needs to get her out if here. If she gets hurt –

No.

She is Zel, she won’t- she can’t get hurt. He won’t allow it. Not when Sylvia is waiting for her back at home, not when he knows how wonderful she is, not when he can do something about it.

There is another flash of green and he sees a body hit the floor from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t have time to realize that the guttural scream is coming from him.

* * *

The funeral is on Sunday morning.

It’s a small affair with white roses and a downpour of rain. It’s fitting weather, Charlie thinks offhandedly as they lower her flower riddled casket into the damp soil. It’s like the sky knows that someone is dead. That a child, who Charlie was responsible for is dead.

It’s awful. Standing at the back, knowing that the tears and wails of her parents were caused by him, that he was the one who wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t _strong enough_. It’s the first time anyone has died in the field and it’s all his fault.

It gets worse as the event drags on, as her parents come up to him and he seizes up and instead of screaming at him, they thank him for helping them with the funeral, for everything he has done for their girl. And then he wants to scream at them. He wants to tell them that he was the one who killed her. And then they ask him to say a few words for her and he wants to cry again, because he knows nothing about her. She was in his company, his team, his group of witches and wizards to organize and _protect_. And not only does he know nothing about her, but he is also directly responsible for her death. She was a quiet girl, he says, she was a kind girl.

The words turn to ash in his mouth.

He has seen her before in passing, a mop of dark hair and a flash of black eyes. She was pretty, and young. She couldn’t have been more than 18. And it is that thought that makes him want to throw up.

It ends – _thank god_ – a little into the afternoon. He brushes past Gabby’s concerned expression and rushes straight back to his apartment. It’s the only place he can be by himself for a bit, and he knows he can’t just abandon his duties for the day, but he needs a moment, just one moment to collect himself.

He breaks down when he arrives. He sits on the floor and buries his head in his knees as his breathing quickens and acid tears burn tracks down his face, and he can’t – _he can’t._ because he had known, he had known that this was war, that this was bound to happen. But no amount of preparation could have- 

He hears the click of the door opening and some half delirious part of him thinks for one moment that it is death eaters come to kill him. But there is no flash of green light, or shouted words, just a steady pressure rubbing circles into his back.

_Gabby._

He can vaguely make out the sound of hushed whispers and shuffling feet and he realizes that everyone is here. Everyone is here to see him in this sorry state, and that makes it so much worse. Why did they follow him? He doesn’t want them to see him like this! But no matter how much he hates being such a mess in front of them, he doesn’t want them to leave. He doesn’t want to be alone.

He lets gabby draw circles on his back for a little while longer.

* * *

Zel tells him later that he saved her life.

He doesn’t remember much from the crazed haze of shouts and blurs; he does remember grabbing her arm and pulling her to the door. Apparently, that had saved her life. It takes him a full ten minutes to process this.

“you pulled me out the way of the killing curse,” she signs.

He hugs her then, because he doesn’t know what else to do. She had- god she had nearly died! And he had saved her. Bu what if-

What if the curse that was meant for Zel had found that girl instead? What if the reason she had died was because he had pulled Zel away? The relief that wells in his stomach makes him want to throw up because that girl had _died._ Her life had been exchanged for Zel's and he made the bargain he-

Zel hits his arm.

“you’re thinking too much, I can see the angst dripping off of you.” That gets a startled laugh out of him.

“it wasn’t your fault you know,” she continues. “it was just bad luck. awful, terrible bad luck. And if you hadn’t been there, if it had been anyone else, I would be dead.”

He takes a deep shuddering breath and nods shakily.

“okay,” he says as he runs his hand through his tangled hair “okay”.

* * *

Dumbledore is dead.

It comes as a shock for everyone. And while they all scramble about, making plans and arrangements, Charlie tries to deal with the fact that his older brother got mauled by a werewolf.

It was luck. Pure luck that it wasn’t a full moon, that Bill wasn’t turned. The rest of his family are safe. Bill is alive.

He repeats this over and over and over again, like a mantra. Because maybe if he says it often enough, he’ll start to believe it. Maybe.

He sends a letter to bill as soon as he can. Because the last time they spoke, everything was so much simpler. And now everything is confused and wrong and _bad_ and he- he doesn’t know what to _do anymore._ He wants to go see him, wants to run to England and burst though the hospital doors, wants to kneel at bills bedside and keep him safe. But he is needed here, his friends need him here, his work needs him here.

So, he stays. God dam it he stays and hates the fact that he does. Because it feels like betrayal. It feels like abandoning Bill.

He knows that not true, knows that Bill won’t see it that way, but Charlie can’t stop thinking it. So, he makes a plan. He makes a devilish plan.

Along with his letter to Bill, he sends an envelope to one Miss Delacour. Charlie isn’t stupid and although he has no interest in love, he’d be blind if he couldn’t see how much they love each other. And he knows, about the marriage. It is the perfect excuse to visit them, the perfect reason for running away, back to burrow for a bit.

And so, he sends the letters, and then he waits. He waits and he hopes, that everything will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its finished!
> 
> I should defo have the next chapter up earlier than this one but I do have exams next month and so will be spending lots of time studying for them. Thank you all so much for the support you have shown this fic, I really appreciate it. until next time
> 
> Bye lovelies.


	8. Charlie Weasley and the wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems fuzzy and slow for a moment. He draws his wand at the same time as the twins, but many people are only just realizing that something strange has happened, heads still turning towards the silver cat as it vanishes. Silence spreads outwards in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus landed. Then somebody screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split this year in two as quite a lot happens, it shouldn't take too long to get the next part up and then there is only one more chapter to go!

** Year 7 **

It starts, as all things seem to do in Charlies life, with a letter.

It is plain and white and unassuming and for once, it doesn’t send him spiraling into panic. Instead, it leaves him almost giddy with excitement.

Its Harry’s birthday the day before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and he’s been invited home.

_Home._ Back to the burrow with Fred and Georges jokes, and Ginny’s temper, and mums fussing and Ron’s enthusiastic talk about quidditch and his _family._ All together in the one place. It’s almost too good to be true.

And as for the wedding, well- he can’t believe his older brother is about to tie the knot.

Charlie had laughed when bill asked him to be the best man. It felt surreal, or like he was joking. An hour later the realization had set in that Bill had asked him to do something heartfelt and important, and Charlie had laughed in his face. Queue a rush of hastily written letters, apologizing profusely and begging Bill to forgive him.

He’s happy for him of course, but it feels a little bit like losing him. It’s stupid; he knows it is. Because that isn’t true at all. He couldn’t lose Bill even if he tried! but that doesn’t crush the little flare of anxiety that says his brother is leaving him behind. It’s not even that he doesn’t like Fleur! In fact, he thinks she is quite incredible. Charlie hasn’t forgotten the Triwizard tournament, sometimes still gets nightmares about Harry and the dragon, but more so, he remembers Fleur. Enchanting a dragon. to sleep. On her own.

If Bill hadn’t married her, he can bet she would have a line of dragon tamers fighting over her affection. Zel and Sylvia included.

He _is_ happy for him. Happy that his older brother is getting a chance at a fairy-tale ending. And even though Charlie has never understood the whole romance thing, he thinks that maybe he can understand that Bill is lighter, happier around her, and that he deserves to feel like that.

He packs what he needs. His best dress robes, comfortable clothes, his wand, and of course, a picture of his baby dragons, because everyone needs to see how adorable his children are and there is no room for objections. Who could resist those scaly faces? Those ickle beady eyes?

Eventually, he says goodbye to his friends. He leaves Zel and Sylvia in charge of his responsibilities. He knows he can trust them to work diligently and efficiently, Zel’s brains and Sylvia's ambition are able to conquer just about anything. What he doesn’t know is whether or not they will keep their promise to make sure that sexual activities, stay out of his office. For the sake of his poor, poor furniture, he hopes they do.

He goes to Haru and Gabby’s apartment next with a bottle of wine. It’s harder to say goodbye to them. Zel and Sylvia are more reserved with their emotions, offering him a swift but firm hug and a cheerful wave.

Haru is nearly blubbering.

It’s not like he’s leaving forever, just going to a wedding party! But Haru has always been dramatic, always been free with his feelings and even more so with his tears. At least Charlie can rely on Gabby to roll her eyes fondly, pat him on the back, and send Charlie off with a bag of warm cookies.

He won’t be gone long, but he thinks he’ll miss them, nonetheless.

* * *

The first thing His mum does when he arrives, is force him into a chair, raise her wand threateningly above him, and announce he is about to get a proper haircut.

He had forgotten how terrifying she could be.

She snips away as they catch up, laughing amiably about this and that, giddy with the excitement of closeness, of everyone being together. She tells him at one point that she doesn’t like Fleur all that much and he quickly smothers a laugh before she takes offense. But even he can see the crinkle in the corner of her eye that lets him know she isn’t entirely serious. Charlie is certain that she would grumble about any girl Bill brought home, but he knows it is mostly in good humour. Mostly.

The next thing he does is fuss over George’s ear.

He can’t stop looking at the wound, and even though his mum has cleaned it up just fine, he can’t take his eyes off the dark hole in the side of his head. Charlie thanks merlin that it was just his ear. It could have been far worse.

Harrys birthday tables are placed at the end of the garden, as they would have pushed the burrows kitchen to breaking point, even before the arrival of any guests. Fred and George had already bewitched a number of purple lanterns, all emblazoned with a large number ‘17’ to hang in mid-air over the guests. One of Ron’s friends, Hermione if he recalls correctly, makes purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes, and then with another flourish, turns the leaves on the crab-apple tree to gold. He admires her artistic skill; she obviously has an eye for decoration.

“out of the way!” he turns to see his mum, barging through the gate with what appears to be a giant, beach-ball sized snitch, floating in front of her. It takes him a few seconds to realize that its Harry’s birthday cake. Obviously, she doesn’t trust herself enough to carry it over the uneven ground, and Charlie can’t help but to smile fondly. Trust his mum to pull something like this.

By seven o’clock, all the guests had arrived, led into the house by Fred and George, who had been waiting for them at the end of the lane. Charlie gets a glimpse of Hagrid in his best, horrible, hairy brown suit and he had spotted Lupin and Tonks around earlier. Lupin had looked rather sour, but Tonks had been simply radiant beside him. It was rather odd.

He is wandering around the guests when Hagrid calls him over.

“-hey! Charlie!”

He ambles over to him, running his hands absently through his now, brutally short hair. He takes a moment to mourn the loss of his precious locks, before focusing his attention on the group in front of him.

“hi Hagrid, how’s it going?”

“Bin meanin’ ter write fer ages. How’s Norbert doin’?”

“Norbert?” it takes Charlie a moment to connect the dots before he laughs. Hagrid doesn’t know. “The Norwegian ridgeback? We call her Norberta now.”

“wha- Norbert’s a girl?”

“oh Yeah” Charlie says, grinning at his old friends’ antics.

“how can you tell?” the girl asks. He is sure its Hermione but doesn’t want to get it wrong.

“They’re a lot more vicious,” He says. He looks over his shoulder, making sure he is out of ear shot before he lowers his voice. “Wish dad would hurry up and get here, mum’s getting edgy.”

He turns to look back wat his mum, who is trying desperately to make small talk with Fleur whilst repeatedly glancing at the gate. Dad’s still at the ministry, and with the already high tensions – well.

“I think we’d better start without Arthur,” she calls out to the garden at large after a moment or two. “he must have been held up at -oh!”

They all see it at the same time: a streak of light that comes flying across the garden and onto the table, after a moment it resolves itself into a silver weasel, standing up on its hind legs, then speaking in a voice that sounds distinctly like his fathers.

“Minister for magic coming with me.” The Patronus says, then dissolves into thin air, leaving everyone to stare at the empty spot on the table. He thinks Fleurs family look particularly astonished as they stare at the place where it had vanished.

“we shouldn’t be here,” he hears Lupin say to Harry. He says something more that Charlie doesn’t catch, before dragging Tonks away and disappearing over the fence, vanishing from sight.

He looks back to his mum who looks about as bewildered as Charlie feels.

“The minister – but why -? I don’t understand – “

But there is no time to discuss the matter, as at that moment, his dad appears out of thin air at the gate, accompanied by a man that Charlie recognizes as Rufus Scrimgeour by his mane of grizzled hair. They march across the garden to the lantern lit table that has descended into silence as everybody watches them draw closer.

“sorry to intrude,” Scrimgeour says as he limps to a halt, accent thick “especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party.”

His eyes linger on the snitch cake and Charlie holds his breath, the silence is tense, and it makes him want to reach for the comfort of his wand.

“many happy returns.”

“thanks,” says Harry.

“I require a private word with you,” the man goes on “also Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione granger.”

“us?” Ron says, obviously sharing Charlies confusion. “Why us?”

“I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private,” he turns to Charlies mum, and he can feel himself stiffen slightly. “Is there such a place?” Scrimgeour demands.

“yes of course,” his mum says nervously, “the, er, sitting room, why don’t you use that?”

“you can lead the way,” he says to Ron “there will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur.”

He can see his parents exchange worried glances, and Charlie shares their apprehension. What is it that the man needs to tell them? What does he want with his little brother? But then the three of them stand up and lead the man into the burrow and there is nothing Charlie can do but sit still and wait to see what happens.

He just hopes its nothing bad, but with his luck? Well, let’s just say his chances aren’t looking so good.

But still he sits.

And sits.

And sits.

The seconds tick by agonizingly slow as the rest of the guests murmur in an anxious hush, no one daring to break the quiet that has taken over them. Charlie fiddles with the edge of the tablecloth. He counts the seconds. He does anything he can to alleviate the tension in his bones.

“what do yeh s’ppose that was abou’?” Hagrid tries to whisper to him, only managing to bring his volume down by a few notches.

“I don’t know.” Charlie whispers back. And he really doesn’t.

It’s not long after that they hear the raised voices.

His head whips round to the doors and he watches as his parent’s rush forwards. Scrimgeour’s voice can be heard, his words muffled but tone unmistakably angry. Charlie forces himself to swallow, to _let go of his wand_. Everything is fine. Everything will be fine.

When they do emerge, Scrimgeour is no longer with them. The man has obviously taken his leave and Charlie feels nothing short of bone crushing relief. According to Ron, he had been there to give them objects from Dumbledore’s will. The items get passed from hand to hand, everyone exclaiming over the Deluminator and _The tales of Beedle the bard_ and lamenting the fact that Scrimgeour had refused to pass on the sword. But no one, Charlie included, can offer any suggestions as to why Dumbledore would have left Harry an old snitch. It just doesn’t make any sense! Charlie was one of the best quidditch players of his time, he could have played for England if he had chosen too, and if the rumours are to be believed, harry is just as good. But that still doesn’t explain the bizarreness of the request. It makes Charlie want to tear is hair out, but he doesn’t want to make it any shorter than it is.

After his father examines the deluminator, for a third time, dinner is finally served. Everyone eats rather hurriedly, and then, after a hasty chorus of happy birthday’ and much gulping of cake, the party breaks up. Hagrid, who is invited to the wedding the next day, leaves to set up a tent for himself in a neighboring field. There is just no way that he would possibly be able to fit in the burrow.

Charlie heads back inside. Tomorrow he is going to be the best man, and he intends to get his beauty sleep.

* * *

Three o’clock on the following afternoon sees Charlie dressed in his best dress robes, and ready to fulfil his duties to Bill as a best man, and younger brother.

It also sees him shaking with nerves, and three steps away from bolting.

They wait under the white marquis, seating plans in hand, ready to show the guests to their seats. He sees harry on his right, the boy has taken a large dose of Polyjuice potion and now looks the double of a red-haired muggle from the local village, Ottery St. Catchpole, from whom Fred had=s managed to steal hairs. The plan is to introduce him as ‘cousin Barny’ and trust the great number of Weasley relatives to camouflage him.

A host of white robed waiters arrived an hour earlier, along with a golden jacketed band, and all of these wizards are currently sat a short distance away under a tree; Charlie can see a blue haze of pipe smoke issuing from the spot.

Behind him, the entrance of the marquis reveals rows and rows of fragile golden chairs set either side of a long, purple carpet. The supporting poles are entwined with white and gold flowers. Fred and George have fastened an enormous bunch of golden balloons over the exact point where Bill and Fleur will shortly become husband and wife. Outside, butterflies and bees hover lazily over the grass and hedgerow.

It all looks rather beautiful.

He hears a loud crack and turns around to see the first of the guest materializing. Brightly colored figures appear, one by one, out of nowhere at the distant edge of the garden. Within minutes, a procession has formed, snaking its way up through the garden and towards the marquis. Exotic flowers and bewitched birds flutter on the witch’s hats, while precious gems glitter from many of the wizard’s cravats, a hum of excitement grows louder and louder, drowning the sound of the bees as the crowd approaches the tent.

It takes a while for everyone to find their seats, especially as Hagrid has broken five of them in an attempt to sit down. Charlie thinks it was rather obvious that the big, reinforced seat was his instead of the five little ones, but his old friend seemingly missed the point. However, the damage is repaired with a flick of a wand, and there was no harm done.

By the time the marquis is full, a jittery anticipation has filled the tent, the general murmuring broken by occasional spurts of excited laughter. His parents stroll up the aisle, smiling and waving at the crowd. He doesn’t recognize the outfit his mother is wearing and decides that it must be a brand-new set of robes with a matching hat.

A moment later, he stands up with Bill at the front. They are both wearing dress robes, with large white roses in the buttonholes. He can hear Fred wolf whistles and there is an outbreak of giggles from the Veela cousins that Charlie smiles a little at, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. The crowd silences again as music swells from what seems to be the golden balloons.

A great collective sigh is issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur come walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur wears a simple white dress and seems to emit a strong silvery glow. While her radiance usually dims everyone else by comparison, today it beautifies everybody it falls upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses look stunning and once Fleur reaches him, Bill looks as though he has never met Fenrir Greyback.

“ladies and gentlemen” a slightly sing-song voice says, and Charlie turns to the tufty haired wizard standing in front of Bill. “we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls…”

His mind wanders a bit as he takes the words in, back to games of quidditch in the garden, and sleepovers in each other’s rooms. He remembers the secret codes and the hushed whispers and the childish joy they had shared together, and if he cries just a little, surely no one will notice.

“do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle…?”

In the front row, he spies his mum and Madame Delacour sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. It makes him feel slightly better about the few tears that are definitely not rolling down his face. He hears Hagrid blow into one of his tablecloth sized handkerchiefs and laughs a little bit despite himself.

“… then I declare you bonded for life.”

The tufty haired wizard raises his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur, and a shower of silver stars falls upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figures. As Fred and George lead a round of applause, the golden balloons overhead burst: birds of paradise and tiny, golden bells fly and float out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.

“ladies and gentlemen!” the tufty haired wizard calls “if you would please stand up!” 

Everyone stands and as they do, the wizard waves his wand. The seats they have been sitting on rise gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquis vanish, so that they stand beneath a canopy supported by golden poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and the surrounding countryside. A pool of molten gold spreads from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor, the hovering chairs grouping themselves around small, white clothed tables, which all float gracefully back to earth and the golden jacketed band troops towards a podium.

Waiters begin to pop up on all sides, some bearing silver trays of pumpkin juice, butterbeer and firewhisky, others tottering piles of tartes and sandwiches.

Bill and Fleur disappear into a crowd of well-wishers and Charlie feels a little lost for a moment. But then the band begins to play, and an applause goes up as Bill and Fleur hit the dance floor. After a while, his Mum walks on with Monsieur Delacour and his dad with Madame Delacour.

He smiles and move off to mingle.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for things to go wrong.

One minute he is chattering to Fred and George, and the next, something large and silver is falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx lands lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers. Heads turn as those nearest it freeze, absurdly, in mid dance. Then the Patronus’s mouth opens wide and it speaks in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“the ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

Everything seems fuzzy and slow for a moment. He draws his wand at the same time as the twins, but many people are only just realizing that something strange has happened, heads still turning towards the silver cat as it vanishes. Silence spreads outwards in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus landed. Then somebody screams.

He throws himself into the panicking crowd as guests sprint in every direction. Many start to disapparate; the protective enchantments around the burrow have broken.

“Ron!” he shouts, because as he pushes his way across the dance floor, cloaked and masked figures appear in the crowd.

He fights and pushes through the people because he needs to find his family and he – he doesn’t know _where they are._

“Ginny!” he sees a flash of long red hair and he thinks, hopes to god that its her and that she is still alive.

Someone grabs his hand and pulls as a streak of white light whizzes past his head. He doesn’t have time to wonder if it was a protective charm or something more sinister because in the next second, he is being boxed in by the darkness, the familiar feeling of apparition closing around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think and feel free to leave any ideas or constructive criticism you may have :)


	9. Charlie Weasley and the battle of Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is with war cries louder than any he has heard before, and the sounds of Hagrid’s half brother screaming that they join the battle of Hogwarts, hundreds of people swarming over the school walls and pelting towards the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is finished! only one more chapter to go, hope you enjoy :)

**year 7** **pt.2**

Ron doesn’t come back.

Not the first night, or the second, or the third or fourth. Charlie counts every second as he paces up and down the garden pathways, wringing his hands and biting his lips. He knows that if Gabby was here, she’d be laughing her ass of tears streaming down her face, calling him a mother hen, and clucking every so often, just to hammer in her point. But she isn’t here. She is back in Romania with all his friends. And Charlie thinks that he has never quite felt this brand of loneliness. Or worry.

Wherever Ron, harry and Hermione are, he hopes to god they are safe. If they’re not he – he doesn’t know what he’ll do. They have to okay. He can’t lose his family; he can’t lose any of them.

Ginny goes back to Hogwarts, no one is happy about that, but she goes anyway. Charlie knows she’s tough as nails, but with Snape as the headmaster – well. He thinks he is allowed to worry about her in this specific situation. But she goes back to school, and Charlie gets back to work.

The order is breaking, splintering, falling apart before their eyes and they _need_ more people. If what they are hearing is true, then Voldemort is amassing an army. If what their hearing is true, Voldemort _has_ an army, an army that will destroy them all if they don’t do something. So, he plans, and he plots and he owls all his connections. He recruits and regroups and recounts their numbers over and over again.

He gets in touch with Horace Slughorn. He still works at Hogwarts as a professor, someone to keep an eye on Ginny, and a powerful friend to have.

But its still not enough. Sometimes he thinks that it will _never_ be enough. He only lets himself think like that at night when everyone else is asleep and he’s alone. If people see his composure start to crack, then he knows theirs will too. And they can’t afford for that to happen.

He starts keeping a list of all the things he wants to do once this war is over. He wants to go to Haru and Gabby’s wedding, and see the sun rise from the burrow, and have a big family dinner altogether, and more than anything he wants to be happy. He reads it every night, and he knows that this is worth it. Knows he can do all of these things; he just has to keep fighting.

So, he does.

He takes it one day at a time. Sometimes one second at a time. It feels like wading through hellfire, like crawling through flames, but it’s worth it. He works till he can’t think, he ploughs on until he almost collapses from exhaustion, because this is worth it. It is all worth it.

And maybe, if he tells himself that enough times, if he repeats it again and again. Maybe, just maybe, it will end up being true.

* * *

He hears about the Gringotts break in from the newspaper.

He reads it once, then once more, and finally, he throws his head back and laughs like a maniac, sound spilling from his mouth as tears roll down his cheeks.

Because there is no way, absolutely no way in hell that this was the work of anyone but his brothers’ little group of friends. And if it was them, if it was Ron and harry and Hermione, then they are alive. Then his brother is alive.

He laughs like he hasn’t in months, mainly because he hasn’t in months. They are _alive._ And they broke into bloody Gringotts! That’s supposed to be impossible! But if anyone were to do it, and someone had very much done it, of course it would be Ron. Charlie is fairly certain that Ron and his friends can do anything if given the time and motivation. He really hopes that includes defeating Voldemort.

Charlie is so proud of him. Okay, yes robbery is usually frowned upon, but Charlie is sure Ron had a good reason! And he freed that poor little dragon who had been forced to guard the vaults. Actually, he had more than freed the Ukrainian Ironbelly, he escaped on its back! If Charlie was unsure before, he knows for certain that Ron takes after him now. His little brother, riding a dragon already, his heart swells at the thought of it. Maybe he’ll take Ron to see the dragon sanctuary in Romania once this all over. Charlie thinks he would like that.

He remembers finding out that Gringotts had a dragon from Bill when he was younger, and boy had that been a fun conversation. Obviously, Charlie had been outraged and had written a _very_ strongly worded note to the ministry immediately. Honestly, keeping an innocent dragon, chained up and in pain, its barbaric! No wonder the ministry ended up being corrupt if they pulled this sort of thing. Of course, Bill had just smiled and ruffled his hair. And when Charlie accused him of being an asshole, he accused Charlie of being overdramatic. The nerve of him! Charlie is not overdramatic he is just passionate. And sensitive but that is completely besides the point. At least Bill had the common sense to apologize afterwards, even though Charlie had already forgotten all about it.

He realizes very suddenly how much he misses Bill.

It’s feels like looking both ways before you cross the street, then being hit by a submarine. Because he knew he would miss everyone, was prepared for it, but it suddenly hits him all at once. His family is split, everyone in different places, everyone all alone. He wonders if they will ever all be together again, then quickly crushes that thought. They will be. When all of this is over, they will all sit down together and laugh with each other, just like they used to.

He realizes that this hope, this desperate need for his family is the only thing getting him through this war. He just hopes it is enough.

* * *

It is with war cries louder than any he has heard before, and the sounds of Hagrid’s half brother screaming that they join the battle of Hogwarts, hundreds of people swarming over the school walls and pelting towards the castle. Thestrals and hippogriffs, and giants and centaurs all force their way through the death eaters ranks, leaving chaos and confusion in their wake.

It is the sound of reinforcements arriving.

The sounds of battle echo around him as he casts, he can see Buckbeak swooping down, wings outstretched and can hear the screams that follow. Time seems to slow down, he watches a spell head towards a young girl and throws a shield charm her way, he hears something whip past his ear and turns just enough to see the spell blow a chunk out of the wall behind him.

Deatheaters and wizards alike are being forced back into the castle, and Charlie casts spell after spell, keeping time with Horace Slughorn at his side.

He charges up the front steps, leading his reinforcements to the hall. He and Slughorn had rounded up every family member and every friend of each wizard in Hogwarts who still remained to fight, along with shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaur’s bane, Ronan and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves as in front of Charlie, the door that led to the kitchens is blasted off its hinges.

The house elves of Hogwarts swarm the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knifes and cleavers. He can hear them screaming, even over the din. They hack and stab at the ankles and shins of death eaters, tiny faces alive with malice. And everywhere Charlie looks, he sees deatheaters folding under the sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the legs by elves or else simply trying to escape.

They are _winning._ But it’s not over yet.

He catches a glimpse of Voldemort, dueling McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsly all at once, cold hatred in his face as the weave and duck around him.

He keeps fighting.

He sees deatheaters fall around him, one by one. He watches as his spells hit their mark.

From the corner of his eye, he can see his little sister fighting Bellatrix with Luna and Hermione. He fights his way over to them, pushing through the ever-growing crowd, stepping on corpses as he struggles forward.

And then there is a flash of green and his heart stops in his chest as a killing curse flies past Ginny’s head, inches away from killing her.

He barely hears the strangled sound he makes as he lurches forward.

“NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!”

He sees his mum pull off her coat as she runs, freeing her arms. Bellatrix turns, roaring with laughter and Charlie rushes forward again in a desperate bid to reach them in time.

“OUT OF MY WAY!” she yells to the three girls, before her she gives a swipe of her wand and she begins to duel. Her wand slashes and twirls and Bellatrix smile fades to a snarl. For a moment, he almost laughs. His mother is dueling Bellatrix Lestrange.

Jets of light fly from both their wands, the floor around their feet becoming hot and cracked, both women fighting to kill.

His mum yells at some students who rush forward to get back, that Bellatrix is hers, and Charlie, so use to hearing her order him around, obeys.

He rushes back into the fray because he trusts his mum. He knows first-hand how terrifying she can be. And naught a few seconds later, a curse hits Bellatrix directly in the chest. The gloating smile wipes from her face and for a moment, she realizes what has happened. And then she topples, and the watching crowd roars and Voldemort screams.

He turns to see McGonagall, Slughorn and Kingsly flailing backwards against Voldemort’s wrath. And then he is rushing forward again, he has to get to them, needs to protect them –

“Protego!” A voice roars as a shield charm extends over the three in the center of the hall. Harry Potter appears from out of thin air, and all around him, cheers go up.

People are shouting that harry is alive, and Charlie wonders why they think he’s dead, before quickly deciding to abandon that though and focus on what’s in front of him; a child facing down a monster.

The shouts settle into absolute, unnerving silence. They’re afraid, he realizes. He is too. More than he has ever been. Harry is still a child; he can’t do this alone.

Charlie is about to step forward, step in front of him until harry speaks.

“I don’t want anyone else to try to help,” He says loudly, voice echoing the silence of the hall. Its enough to make Charlie stop. “it’s got to be like this. It’s got to be me.”

The finality of that statement makes Charlie want to cry. He wants to move forward, to put an end to this right now. But he doesn’t. He knows he needs to trust Harry.

So, he watches and waits as Voldemort insults him, as harry reveals how he had given himself up in the forest, how he had died to protect everyone. Charlie thinks he might cry. This boy, this child, walked to his death for them. And no one had done anything. He had given everything, and he was still giving more. This wonderful, brave, selfless boy.

He watches Harry talk about Dumbledore, how he chose his own death, and about Snape being on their side the whole time. He listens as he talks about the elder wand, about how it will never be Voldemort’s, never answer to him. Because it belongs to harry. The leer fades from Voldemort’s face, and Charlie knows exactly what is going to happen before it does.

But still, he stands by as Voldemort’s hand draws back, as harry flicks his wand.

“ _Avada kedavra!”_

_“Expelliarmus!”_

The bang is like a canon blast and the golden flame that erupts between them, at the dead center of the circle they have been treading, marks the point where their spells collide. Charlie sees the lime green of Voldemort’s meet the brilliant red of Harrys, sees the elder wand go flying from his grasp, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling. And finally, he sees Harry reaching out, with impeccable seeker instincts, catching the wand in his free hand. For an odd moment, Charlie thinks that harry must make a wonderful quidditch player, even better than himself.

Voldemort falls backwards, arms splayed, the slit pupils of his scarlet eyes rolling upwards. He hits the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, his white hands open and empty, the snake-like face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort is dead, killed by his own rebounding curse.

There is one shivering second of silence, suspended by the shock, and then the tumult breaks around Harry, screams and cheers and roars reaching the air.

Everyone crowds around harry, faces alight with awe and sheer wonder as the sun rises on the battlefield. The orange tones bleed into yellow as they creep up the courtyard where bodies lie, strewn randomly across the ground, and into the great hall, filling it with golden light. For a moment, it looks as though the war had never happened. It looks like the Hogwarts Charlie remember, full of magic and joy.

Harry looks uncomfortable with so many people around him, so Charlie steps back. He turns to look out across the battlefield and takes it all in. It will take a long time to fix, he thinks, to put everything back the way it was.

Although, he is not sure anything will ever be the way it was. The moment feels monumental somehow, like the world can never be the same. Charlie is almost humbled that he played a part in something so grand important.

The next few moments feel like Charlie is in a dream as the world moves around him. Because it is over, it’s all over.

He runs to his mum and throws himself into her arms. Because she is here and safe and alive. He looks over all his sibling, just to assure himself, just to remind himself that they are fine. That they cannot be hurt any more, that it is all over. He smiles, wider than he had ever though was possible.

But then his eyes reach George, and there is no one beside him.

“Where’s Fred?” he asks grinning, probably setting up fireworks or getting into some kind of trouble. He can only imagine the celebrations the twins have planned. But no one will meet his eyes and his mum looks like she might cry, and Georges shoulders are shaking and his heart plummets. He can’t – no.

“Where’s Fred?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter should be up pretty quickly as I am super excited to write it, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
